


Arrhythmia

by rabidnar



Series: Matters of the Heart [1]
Category: Pitch Perfect (2012)
Genre: Dark, F/F, Murder Mystery
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-01-26
Updated: 2015-01-26
Packaged: 2018-01-10 01:42:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 33
Words: 111,732
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1153265
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rabidnar/pseuds/rabidnar
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She has a thing for sappy romance movies; the cliche kind where people tearfully declare their love then kiss in the pouring rain. They make her wonder if love is really as intense as it looks and, if it is, what it will feel like when someone knocks the wind out of her one day.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter One

 

**Arrhythmia**

* * *

_Come up to meet you,_   
_Tell you I'm sorry._   
_You don't know how lovely you are._   
_I had to find you,_   
_Tell you I need you,_   
_Tell you I set you apart._   
_\- Coldplay_

* * *

"I still don't understand why you think being five minutes early to something is considered being late."

"Because you're supposed to be  _fifteen_  minutes early, Chloe." Aubrey grunts and yanks her oversized black suitcase out of the trunk of the car then sets it down on the asphalt. "I've told you this a million times." She pulls up the handle of the suitcase and shuts the trunk door with a loud thump that temporarily silences a flock of noisy seagulls then double checks it to make sure it's closed. Her lips press together and her shoulders tense as she turns to face Chloe and relays the explanation in a confident, scripted tone. "Anything earlier than fifteen minutes makes you look too eager; anything later makes you look like you don't care." She's been trying to engrain that knowledge in Chloe's head for years now, mostly just to keep her from continuously being two hours late to everything she attends. But considering they nearly missed their plane and were thirty minutes late to pick up their rental car, the efforts were still proving to be futile. Sometimes Aubrey still gets calls from Chloe's job (since Chloe is terrible at remembering to take  _her_  phone off silent) that consist of not-so-friendly reminders that Mrs. Thompson in Room 103 does not particularly enjoy Chloe's first graders and that Chloe really needs to learn to call when she's going to be late if she wants to keep her position. If Chloe didn't look like a kicked puppy while being lectured, Aubrey has no doubt that she'd be unemployed. She sighs and counts their luggage to make sure they have everything.

"Beca's not going to think we don't care because we're on time," Chloe argues with an almost amused tone that makes Aubrey shoot her a look. Chloe locks the car doors with a button on a key ring then hoists the strap of the smallest of her two bags up over her shoulder. "I think she'll understand. Since when has  _Beca_  ever been early for anything?" She looks up at Aubrey and clutches her carryon bag against her body.

"Never," Aubrey answers flatly. She leans down and picks up her own shoulder bag, which is the same color as her suitcase – unlike Chloe's bags which are a mix of clashing light blue and deep purple. She meets Chloe's eyes as she's straightening herself back up and holds her gaze. "Because she doesn't care." She pauses briefly then adds, "That's why she doesn't have a job." She knows she's almost daring Chloe to try to argue with that last comment. It seems like all she hears about is how 'cool' Beca's job is. Her lip curls and she adjusts the strap of her bag so it's not digging uncomfortably into the collarbone. God, she can't believe she let Chloe talk her into this. "Fifteen minutes, Chloe," she tries to reinforce the point of the conversation again, but unfortunately she knows that the topic has already switched to the one person she doesn't want to talk about and the one person that Chloe can never shut up about. It's been over four years since they've graduated, and everything still seems to revolve around none other than Beca Freakin Mitchell. She's slowly beginning to accept that she'll never escape that woman. But that doesn't mean she has to like her.

"What are you talking about?" Chloe furrows her brows and shakes her head. "I told you she's a DJ in LA. Just because she doesn't have a job in her major doesn't mean she doesn't have a job, Miss Intern for a Lawyer Attorney at Law. Plus," she smiles and straightens up, letting her bag fall so it's hanging at her side, "we're going to a wedding, not work. We don't have to think about work for a week, Aubrey."

Aubrey thinks that's easy to say for someone who plays with finger paints all day. "I'm not thinking about work," she lies smoothly. She presses her lips together again and turns to look out over the docks as she tries to not think about everything she's going to miss while she's away on this 'vacation'. It's hard. She likes work. She doesn't like the rickety wooden walkway that stretches out over a choppy bay that she's looking at. And she especially doesn't like the idea of sailing across that water. The last time she was on a boat, it was a ten story, capable cruise ship that was well equipped with a jacuzzi and surround sound in the Bahamas. The boats she's looking at now could be paddleboats compared to that one. She turns her nose up at them. "I'm just saying maybe if she had a job in her major, she could have rented a yacht and picked an island that doesn't smell like fish to get married on." She makes a hand motion to their surroundings and not-so-subtly scowls at the waiting ferry that is assaulting her eyes. The briny air does equal damage to her nose, and it leaves a salty aftertaste in her mouth as the wind tries to blow away her ever-stylish straw hat. She lets go of the handle of her suitcase just long enough to press it back down on her head. Being so adamant about her disapproval eases some the heavy anxiety that weighs down on her chest.

"Aubrey, all islands smell like fish," Chloe says in a tone that Aubrey suspects she talks to her students in, "They're surrounded by ocean." She takes a few steps toward the ferry then stops abruptly and turns to face her with an excited grin. "You know, I was teaching my kids about marine life the other day and-"

"Hawaii doesn't smell like fish," Aubrey cuts her off with a petulant retort. It's the first thing that popped into her mind. She already knows all about Chloe's adventures in teaching about marine life. Their refrigerator is covered in first grade drawings of fish (each with a barely legible fact) that make Picasso look like he only ever did Realism. She can barely read any of them, but she can't even get a glass of water without at least noticing the one that says 'seehorsis are not reely horsis'. (And, okay, so maybe it always brings a smile to her face, but that's not the point.)

"You've never even been to Hawaii," Chloe bites back lightly, "It could smell like that weird pulp mill on the way to the mall that you always take the long way around so you don't have to pass it, for all you know."

Aubrey makes a moue and steps forward then stops beside her. "That's still not fish," she replies without bothering to hide the bitterness in her tone, "And I still don't want to be here." She yanks on her suitcase and walks toward the ferry without bothering to look back at the car. If she gives it one last glance, she knows she'll give in to the desire to drive it straight back to the airport. "Plus, Hawaii smells like Coconut Leaves and Berry Sangria," she announces.

"That's Bath and Bodyworks' summer collection," Chloe corrects her. Aubrey just ignores her and keeps walking.

"Aubrey, wait," Chloe calls after her. Aubrey stops several feet away and turns to make sure that Chloe is following. Chloe pulls on her suitcase where one of the wheels is caught in a crack in the sidewalk. It doesn't budge. She looks back at it and gives it a hard tug that nearly sends her sprawling but she stumbles and catches herself before she falls. She gives Aubrey a sheepish look then takes several swift steps to catch up with her again. Aubrey shakes her head and keeps walking. "Come on, this is going to be fun!" Chloe insists convincingly and gives Aubrey a good-natured swat on the arm. The keys jingle in her hand and Aubrey rubs where they hit her elbow. "It's going to be like that movie Bridesmaids or something," she continues.

Aubrey stops again and turns to face her. "Chloe, have you ever seen that movie?" she inquires with a shake of the head. "If it turns out like that, I am not even getting on this boat."

Chloe halts just before she crashes into her then pauses. "Okay, that was a bad example," she admits. She chews on her lower lip and makes an expression that Aubrey has come to realize will be followed by a notoriously bad attempt to save herself. "But it's still going to be really fun!" She grins at Aubrey, who just gapes at her as though she's grown a second head then turns around to continue her reluctant trudge toward the ferry. Chloe speeds after her again. "It has to be fun. It's a wedding!"

That it is. Aubrey lifts her gaze to look at the decorated ferry, complete with streamers and a large sign that reads 'There Are Millions Of People In This World, But In The End It All Comes Down To One'. Jesse's doing, no doubt. Beca has been texting Chloe for the last several weeks about how the entire wedding was turning into one of those sappy romance movies that she really hates. Aubrey doesn't see why she would have a problem with it being sappy when she should have a problem with its location. Some island off the coast of  _Seattle_?  _Really_? She knows Beca argued the matter for a few months, but Jesse's desire to return to some old vacation spot from his childhood won out. She doesn't really understand how Beca and Jesse work, but then again, a lot of people say the same about her friendship with Chloe. They never agree on anything. She's torn from her thoughts by Chloe's persistent encouragement.

"I promise it's going to be great, Aubrey, okay?" Chloe insists again.

Aubrey glances back at her. "You said that about the ICCAs during our junior year of college too," she reminds her. She lifts her suitcase up onto the ramp that leads to the ferry then steps aside as one of the crew members steps in to assist with their luggage.

"Well, maybe you won't puke on the boat," Chloe replies optimistically without missing a beat. It doesn't seem to occur to her until after she opens her mouth and Aubrey is giving her a look that encompasses everything from disgust to exasperation that she said the wrong thing. Her teeth clench and she diverts her gaze to the ground as she kicks at a nail sticking out of the ramp.

"Real nice, Chloe," Aubrey admonishes her.

"Let's just find Beca, okay?" Chloe looks up and offers an apologetic smile. She abandons her luggage near the ramp and takes Aubrey's arm. Aubrey realizes that once this boat leaves the dock, there is no getting out of this. Chloe seems to realize this too because she half-drags Aubrey on board and away from the ramp. "This is exciting. We haven't seen Beca in like two years now," Chloe gets back to the reason they're there.

"By choice," Aubrey reminds her and scrunches her forehead. She's careful not to trip as Chloe keeps pulling her then comes to a stop next to a table. She eyes the refreshments, which at least look decent, and the typical pastel colored decorations. Nothing about this screams 'Beca' at her. But who knows how much a person could change after two years.

"By  _your_ choice," Chloe corrects her rather sorely.

Aubrey snaps her head to the side to look at her when she registers her tone. "She hurt you," she defends her decision without a hint of regret.

"People get engaged," Chloe replies with a tight smile, "I got over it."

Aubrey just shrugs her shoulders and chooses not to think about the whole situation. She turns away from Chloe to look around again, this time at the people. Either there is a small guest list or she and Chloe are two of the first people to arrive. Given that Beca isn't exactly timely, she assumes that the people she socializes with are the same way. She doesn't even recognize any of the people that are already there, aside from Beca's dad and his wife. They're grinning and whispering to each other on the other side of the boat. He brushes her hair out of her face. Aubrey sighs and just hopes to the aca-gods that she and Chloe aren't the only Bella alumni that Beca has invited. She got wind from Chloe that Jesse had invited the Trebles, and Aubrey will be damned if she is spending a week on some crummy island with Beca Mitchell and a bunch of egotistical dirtballs. They were all probably fat and balding by now though. She smirks. Aca-men aged prematurely. Aca-ladies, on the other hand, stayed flawless for years to come.

She stares longingly out over the dock at the rental car. She could leave. Beca wouldn't care. Aubrey already knows that Beca only invited her because of Chloe – and, apparently, because she couldn't think of anyone better to include as a bridesmaid. Beca seems to be as enthusiastic about this whole wedding thing as Aubrey is about recent music. She knows if she leaves, she's going to eventually have to deal with Chloe's tears though. She swears that Chloe makes herself cry sometimes because she knows Aubrey can't stand seeing her upset. It's not fair. She plants her feet flat on the deck. "I don't get why they're even getting married to begin with," she groans.

She doesn't expect the disembodied reply of, "I heard I'd get better health benefits."

Aubrey turns to the side where Beca is now standing and doesn't bother to hide the disgusted look on her face. Beca may have helped her win the ICCAs, but Aubrey won't forget the bad terms that they ended on afterwards. She won't forget the heartbreak that Beca Mitchell caused. Beca has no idea how many nights Aubrey stayed up holding Chloe as she cried over her or how Chloe's Tequila-tinged hazes always somehow lead to one-sided conversation about what could have been. She folds her arms and purses her lips together as she stares down her nose at the bride-to-be without uttering a word. She wants to gag at how much Beca still looks like she did when they were in college, ear monstrosities and all.

"She's kidding," Jesse informs them from where he's standing beside Beca. He glances down at her. "You're kidding, right?" His insecurity almost amuses Aubrey. It's no secret that Beca is a flight-risk. She won't be surprised if Beca never shows up to walk down the aisle.

"I'm kidding," Beca assures him and shoots him a perplexed look. She faces Aubrey and Chloe again and musters up the worst welcoming smile that Aubrey has ever seen then lifts her arms and slaps them back down against her sides. "I'm shocked you came," she admits.

"Of course, we came," Chloe answers softly. Her tone reminds Aubrey too much of when they had waited up for Beca after she was arrested years ago. "Even if I wasn't your maid of honor, I would still be here." Chloe steps forward and wraps Beca in a hug, still completely oblivious to Beca's need for personal space. If Aubrey wasn't so uncomfortable standing there alone, she might smirk. Instead, she just crosses her arms tightly across her chest and eyes Chloe as if she might need to jump in and save her at any given moment. "Aubrey would be here too," Chloe adds with too much confidence for Aubrey's taste. The corners of Aubrey's lips twitch.

Beca awkwardly pats Chloe on the back and waits to be released before she turns to face Aubrey. "Aubrey," she greets her tersely.

"Beca," Aubrey matches her tone. They two of them eye each other in displeasure and Aubrey thinks that if they hated each other any more, they'd probably be rolling around on the floor trying to kill each other. Not that killing Beca would be worth rolling around on a dirty floor for.

"Uh, Fat Amy," Amy says her own name and steps off the ramp and onto the boat, successfully cutting straight through the tension. "Is this like Bellas role call? No cardio, right?"

Aubrey can feel a real grin spreading across her face. "Amy!" she exclaims with a grin and turns to face her. She can see Chloe sighing in relief at her sudden change in demeanor.

"Hey," Fat Amy greets her with a grin and tries to do a fist bump, which Aubrey hesitates to return then completely fails at. Amy turns to fist bump Beca too. Beca is much better at that than Aubrey is and Aubrey scowls to avoid blushing.

"Congrats on the whole wedding thing," Amy comments and glances around the boat.

"Thanks," Beca replies with forced enthusiasm as Jesse squeezes her shoulder.

There's an awkward silence and Amy turns to face Aubrey again. Aubrey knows that for once someone is talking to her because they just have a better connection with her than with anyone else instead of because they're trying to keep her from blowing up. Not many ladies from the Bellas really kept in touch after graduating, but Aubrey and Amy still speak. "Didn't know you were going to be here," Amy states and punches Aubrey's shoulder, "Thought you'd stay at home being a big shot lawyer or something."

"It's just an internship," Aubrey dismisses the comment but she can't help but feel smug that she has a job in her major and Beca doesn't. She knows that Beca has the job that she wants to have, but a smile tugs at the corners of her lips nonetheless. She rubs her shoulder. There is still an awkward silence going on between Chloe, Beca, and Jesse, but Aubrey is content to ignore that and engage in conversation with Amy. "I didn't know you were going to be here either." Aubrey tries to keep in touch with Amy regularly, but with their busy schedules, their friendship has been rather intermittent for the past several months. That being said, she's still probably one of the best friends, aside from Chloe, that Aubrey has. Unless that other intern which she occasionally has coffee with but never really speaks to counts. They sit in the café and read law books together in silence. Chloe never really understands that when Aubrey talks about it, but Aubrey enjoys it.

"I'm glad to see you," Aubrey says with a grin and leans forward to give Amy a light, one-armed hug. It's probably not her best idea. She makes an 'oof' noise as Amy engulfs her in a bone-crushing embrace that nearly squeezes the air out of her. She gives an awkward laugh that sounds a lot like the word 'ooh' when Amy releases her. She backs up a few steps and runs smack into Chloe, who grabs Beca's arm to steady herself. Aubrey quickly straightens her pink blouse and tries to look presentable again. Even with Amy there, she still just wants to go home. Chloe lets go of Beca and places both hands on Aubrey's arm as though she senses the thought.

Bumper boards the boat behind Amy and looks at her and the other guests. "I didn't come with her," he states and points to Amy. Aubrey narrows her eyes at him as he turns and makes his way toward a cooler of beer.

"Did he?" Aubrey mouths to Amy in disgust while at the same time Chloe mouths the same words in excitement.

"He did," Amy answers with a nod and a wink. Chloe looks elated while Aubrey gives Bumper a look of repulsion as he cracks open a beer.

Beca heaves a sigh that directs all the attention back to her. Aubrey refolds her arms and leans against Chloe as they all turn to look at her again. She wishes that she could somehow forget that Beca is even there. It would be quite a challenge since it is her wedding, but Aubrey still plans to at least try. "I thought everyone was supposed to be here by now," Beca says.

"Relax," Jesse says cooly, "They'll be here." He leans to the side and speaks through the corner of his lips, but Aubrey knows he's not bothering to hide it when he says, "You're starting to sound like Aubrey."

"Aca-scuse me?" Aubrey blurts out. She doesn't even bother to see what kind of look Beca makes at Jesse's comment. Chloe immediately slides an arm around her waist as a gesture to cool her down and Jesse looks innocently off to the side. Of course this is how it's going to be. She looks down at Chloe and breaks away from the embrace. "I'm not staying if this is what's going to happen, Chloe." She's sick of still being the one that no one respects. Jesse mouths the word 'wow' and she shakes her head at him then walks several feet away to grab a drink. She's relieved to be followed by Amy. From the corner of her eye, she can see Chloe sighing as she watches her go. But of course she doesn't jump in to defend her when Beca still has so much of her loyalty.

Aubrey grabs the bottle of beer that Amy hands her and twists it open with her bare hands. She knows that she's probably going to be whining to Chloe about the scratch it leaves later, but she doesn't care right now. Her eyes are trained on the trio in front of her.

Jesse leans down and kisses the top of Beca's head. Chloe's expression is unreadable, but Aubrey can see the hurt in her eyes. She suddenly wishes that bottle cap had been Beca's head. She fumes as she tosses it in the trash then takes a sip of beer. She's not used to the bitter taste but it isn't completely disgusting. She takes another drink.

"I'm going to go mark their names down in the guest list," Jesse says, his eyes not leaving Beca. "You gonna be okay here?"

"I don't know why I wouldn't be," Beca retorts with that forced smile again. She stares at his back as he walks away.

Chloe looks at Aubrey then furrows her brows and looks back and forth between Beca and Jesse. "Everything okay?" she inquires at Beca, her voice laced with typical Chloe-concern. Beca could have done a lot worse than break her heart and it would be just like Chloe to still put her above herself. Aubrey keeps a close eye on them.

Beca lifts her hands and hits her sides with them again. "This whole marriage thing is bullshit," she admits when Jesse is out of hearing-range. "The things you'll do for love, right?" She shakes her head and walks from Chloe, moving toward the less populated end of the boat.

"Beca!" Chloe calls after her but Beca doesn't turn around. "Right," she whispers and has that kicked-puppy look again that makes Aubrey want to make whatever hurt her pay. Chloe rubs her hands against her jeans and temporarily looks like she doesn't know where to go before she quickly turns and retreats back to Aubrey's side. She grabs the bottle of beer from Aubrey's hands and takes a long swig of it. Aubrey clenches her jaw and rests a hand on Chloe's lower back. If they have to attend this wedding, there is no way that she'll let Beca get away with making it worse than it already is.


	2. Chapter Two

 

**Arrhythmia**

* * *

_Come up to meet you,_   
_Tell you I'm sorry._   
_You don't know how lovely you are._   
_I had to find you,_   
_Tell you I need you,_   
_Tell you I set you apart._   
_\- Coldplay_

* * *

There are two levels on the ferry and Aubrey finds an empty seat on the upper deck once Chloe has bounced back from the whole Beca ordeal. Depending on how she sits, she can see almost the entire ferry and all of the guests from there. She watches everyone else board while Chloe runs around to catch up with the other Bella alumni and introduce herself to all the people she doesn't know. She's somewhere different, talking to someone new every time Aubrey tries to locate her whereabouts. And she still has Aubrey's beer. At one point, she seems to realize that she stole her drink because she gives it a weird look – but rather than returning it, she just tips it back against her lips and takes another swallow before she continues talking. Aubrey just rolls her eyes and takes a sip from the glass of white wine she managed to find. It's the cheap stuff, but she didn't really expect anything fancy. She balances the glass on the arm of the chair and rests her elbow against the railing of the boat. Chloe prefers to talk whereas Aubrey would rather observe.

On the lower level of the ferry, Beca has situated herself away from everyone else. She's taking up two chairs, sitting on one with her feet propped up on another. No one is approaching her to congratulate her anymore. She has her headphones on and is staring rather intently at her laptop. Jesse keeps glancing at her from where he's standing with a group of Treble alumni. Aubrey catches herself looking for Unicycle among the group, but she quickly stops herself when she realizes what she's doing. Oaths are life-long. They don't just disappear when one graduates. She doesn't see him anyway, but she quickly learns he's on the guest list because she can hear another Treble asking where he is. Jesse shrugs and looks around.

Stacie arrives with Donald and their daughter Sophia. She's nearly three years old now. Aubrey briefly wonders just how many Bellas  _are_  oath-breakers. She doesn't really care anymore though, so it's a fleeting thought. She's no longer really a Bella, therefor the only people she has to worry about are herself and Chloe. She looks at her best friend again. Chloe is oblivious to the Trebles. She's flaunting her now shoulder-length hair to Cynthia-Rose and someone that Aubrey doesn't know while no doubt dramatizing the story about why it's shorter. Aubrey can hear bits and pieces of what she's saying and Chloe mimics scissors with her fingers. Nearly a week after starting her job at the elementary school, Chloe had come home with rubber cement in her hair. It took nearly two hours of trying to scrub it all out before Aubrey grabbed the scissors and convinced Chloe to let her cut it out. She had to cut it to nearly chin-length. Chloe looked adorable though, and developed a fear of getting rubber cement in her hair again, so she doesn't plan to grow it back out past her shoulders. Aubrey smiles and stares at the back of Chloe's head as her story switches from her hair to her first graders. Anyone who doesn't know Chloe is a teacher probably thinks she has sixteen children. She's always going on and on about her kids. She probably brags about them more than their own parents do. Aubrey only meets Chloe's classes twice a year, during open houses, but she always knows all of her students' names and accomplishments (no matter how small).

Several more people step onto the boat and Aubrey can see every Bella and Treble alumni from her graduating year other than Unicycle. She doesn't recognize anyone else as being from Barden. Most people are older and she assumes that they're part of either Beca's or Jesse's family. The majority of people seem to know each other and Aubrey pulls one of her feet up onto the chair with her as she turns sideways and watches them talk. Their conversations, mainly about Beca, Jesse, or the weather, don't interest her much. Chloe catches her eye and mouths 'why aren't you down here?' and Aubrey tilts her head and pretends not to understand what she's saying. She has nothing against reunions, but she's still bitter about this whole trip and would prefer to just keep to herself for the time being. She takes another sip of wine and Chloe gives up on trying to speak to her when she's dragged away for more beer by Cynthia-Rose and Amy. Aubrey hopes they don't get her drunk, because she's not in the mood to feel like she's facing all of this alone.

There's a tap on her shoulder and she lowers her leg and abruptly spins around to bluntly dismiss the person trying to talk to her when she's met at eye level by very muscular arms. Her head snaps up to see the attractive face they're attached to and she quickly straightens up. Is she supposed to say something? She thinks 'hi' might be a good start, but her throat suddenly feels dry. She grips the stem of the wine glass and presses her lips together, lifting her chin and waiting for him to speak first. He did approach her, after all. The only thing she can manage to think is,  _Please don't be a Treble._

"Aubrey, right?" the man asks, but doesn't wait for a confirmation before introducing himself. "I'm Luke. I've heard about you."

Conversations that start like that never end well. She presses her lips off to the side and raises her eyebrows. "What have you heard?" she inquires curiously. She doesn't really want to know what he's heard as much as she wants to know who said it. She's already prepared to shove her wine glass down the throat of whoever.

Luke seems almost taken aback by her question. "That your name is Aubrey," he says simply. "We were in the same graduating class. I worked at the radio station."

The radio station. That's where Beca worked. She turns her head and glances back over the railing at Beca. Beca glances up and they accidentally lock eyes.  _Shit_. She expects Beca to scowl at her, but she just looks down at her laptop again. She must recognize this Luke guy though, because her head snaps back up a few seconds later and her eyes widen as she does a double take. It's as much of a confirmation that Luke didn't hear about her from Beca as she needs. Aubrey spins around and smiles at Luke. "I've heard of you," she answers confidently. She sneaks a glance back at Beca. Beca is glaring at her from behind her computer screen. Aubrey likes Luke already.

"May I?" Luke asks as he motions to the empty chair beside Aubrey.

"Oh." Aubrey's cheeks flush as she realizes how rude she was not to offer him a seat. "Be my guest." She hooks her foot behind one of the chair legs and drags the chair slightly closer. Luke adjusts it so it's angled toward her as he sits down.

"You don't seem very into this whole wedding thing," Luke comments. He slouches back against the chair with his legs spread out in front of him and his arms relaxed on the arms of the chair.

Aubrey has to bite her tongue to refrain from replying that she doesn't like the bride. "So, what do you do, Luke?" she asks and avoids the topic entirely. There is no use chasing a very attractive guy away with talk of Beca. She smiles and relaxes against the back of her chair.

"I own my own record label," Luke answers. He takes a swig of beer from the bottle he's holding. "I'm actually Becky's boss." He pauses. "Again. Small world, right?" He looks at her hand and Aubrey registers that he's looking for a ring. She pretends not to notices but flexes her fingers to make it clear that there isn't one.

_Who the hell is Becky?_ It takes a moment before Aubrey realizes he must mean Beca. She sneaks another glance back at her. Beca is staring at her and looks like she's about ready to spontaneously combust. There's something about finding a handsome man with a drool-worthy voice who Beca doesn't want her speaking to that makes Aubrey think maybe this whole wedding won't be so bad after all. The boat starts to move away from the dock and she doesn't feel the dire need to dive off of it and swim back to the car like she thought she would. There is cheering down below as the boat gets going. Aubrey turns back around with a complacent grin tugging at the corners of her lips.

"What about you?" Luke asks and nods at her.

"I just graduated law school," Aubrey answers proudly. "I'm an intern for an attorney."

Judging by the raised eyebrows and brief nod, Luke is only mildly impressed by that. He taps his bottle against the arm of the chair. "So, how about a drink when we get off this ship?" he bypasses Aubrey's profession completely.

Aubrey gets that law doesn't interest everyone. It doesn't even interest her half the time. But that doesn't stop her from being put off when people completely ignore what she does so they don't have to hear about it. She's tempted to turn him down, and she would if his face wasn't so pretty and she didn't need a distraction this week. She still takes a moment to put some thought into the idea. She has Chloe to hang out with, but Chloe will probably be running around befriending all the locals once she knows everyone in the wedding party. Aubrey thinks Chloe should have gone into Public Relations, because she can't keep up with Chloe's mingling. She thinks a drink with just one person sounds far more enjoyable. "If we happen to have free time, I'd like to meet you for a drink," she accepts his offer.

"Great," Luke says and almost looks shocked that she agreed. "I hear there's a bar on the island called The Cannery or something. We can shoot some pool, play some darts?" He gives her a questioning look.

This doesn't sound like Aubrey's idea of an ideal date at all, but it only takes one more glance at Beca for her to decide to give it a shot. He at least hasn't suggested skipping the date entirely and taking her to his room to get her out of her pants. It's a step up from the last few guys who have tried to ask her out. Her mind wanders; with a face like that and Beca shooting daggers at the back of her head, she can't say she'll mind if the night ends up like that after a few drinks. "So a few rounds then I'll kick your ass at darts," she confirms smugly.

His eyebrows shoot up and he breathes an amused laugh. "You expect me to let you win?" he asks incredulously.

There's something about this guy that Aubrey doesn't like, but Chloe has one-night stands with gorgeous douchebags all the time. It can't hurt. "You won't have to  _let_  me win," she replies.

Luke bobs his head up and down. "I like your confidence," he says and lifts his bottle to take another drink. He stops with the rim just in front of his mouth. "We'll just have to see if your skills match up." He takes a drink. "I don't like pretentious."

Aubrey decides he's going to have to talk less if she's going to be able to tolerate sleeping with him. She grits her teeth. She doesn't quite know when or why her brain jumped from a simple date to sex, but it was probably when he suggested downing alcohol over grabbing dinner or coffee. She opens her mouth to retort when she sees Chloe rushing up the stairs with a huge grin on her face. She shoots Chloe a look to go away, but Chloe seems oblivious. It takes a fraction of a second for her to realize this conversation is officially over. Luke turns around to see who she's looking at.

"Rodney brought a karaoke machine," Chloe announces. She's making dramatic motions with her hands, like she always does when she's excited over something. "We have to duet."

"Who's Rodney?" Aubrey asks and scrunches her forehead.

"Some random guy on Jesse's side of the family," Chloe answers and dismisses the topic with her hand. "That's not the point."

There are no more empty chairs, but Aubrey doesn't think it would make a difference if there were. Chloe sits down on her lap and wraps an arm around her. "Come on, Aubrey, it's been forever since we've sung together."

"Is this your…girlfriend?" Luke cuts in. It's not the first time that Aubrey has been asked this question. Chloe has a habit of wrapping an arm around her and snuggling into her, and people get the wrong impression. He stares at them with a mixture of intrigue and disappointment etched across his features.

Chloe doesn't answer and Aubrey sputters the word, "Roommate." She doesn't have time to think of anything else to say.

"And best friend," Chloe cuts in without missing a beat. "I'm Chloe."

"Luke," he introduces himself and pauses for a moment before slowly getting to his feet. "It was nice to meet you," he tells Aubrey. "I'll get back to you on that drink, yeah?"

Aubrey gapes at his back as he walks away and back toward the lower level of the boat. She drops the hand not holding her drink to her side in exasperation.

Chloe tilts her head and also watches him walk away. "Nice butt," she admires out loud while he's still probably in hearing range. Fortunately, he doesn't look back.

"Chloe!" Aubrey cries out when he's gone.

"Okay, revenge on Beca by getting it on with her boss or not, that guy is not your type," Chloe says matter-of-factly. She smirks. "Though revenge sex is kind of hot." She winks at Aubrey and ignores her scoff.

Aubrey leans forward as best as she can with Chloe on her lap and places her glass on the floor next to the arm of the chair. "I wasn't thinking about having revenge sex with Beca's boss," she denies the entire matter completely. But Chloe looks at her in a way that lets Aubrey know she sees straight through her. "Chloe, I wasn't!" she insists.

"We'll talk about it later," Chloe replies with a knowing smirk. Aubrey prays to the aca-gods that they don't talk about it later. Chloe turns on her lap so one of her feet is on the floor and her knee is between Aubrey's legs. She steals Aubrey's hat so she can see her face better and tucks it between them then grabs her hands and sandwiches them between their chests. Aubrey can smell Tequila on her breath. That's never a good sign. "We have all the Bellas here," Chloe continues with the reason she's on the upper deck to begin with, "We can all sing together again." She grins and presses her forehead against Aubrey's. Their noses are nearly touching. It's no wonder people think they're girlfriends.

Aubrey makes the mistake of locking eyes with her and now she knows she can't say no. Chloe just looks so excited. Aubrey sighs and shakes her head in defeat. "Fine, but you owe me, Chloe," she replies. She loosens one of her hands and grabs her hat then places it back on her head again.

"Deal," Chloe agrees immediately. She grins and pecks Aubrey's lips in appreciation. It's yet another one of those things that has dragged them over the line of friendship, but that they can't seem to stop doing. Aubrey's not sure if either of them ever wants to stop. Chloe is confident that one day they'll find significant others who are fine with their close relationship. Aubrey isn't so optimistic. She lets Chloe pull her to her feet and lace their fingers as she drags her to the stairs and down to the lower level of the ferry. Their hands stay interlocked and Chloe places her free hand on Aubrey's arm as they approach where the guy who must be Rodney is setting up the karaoke machine. The Bellas (aside from Beca) and the Trebles are already gathering around it like it's made of gold. Aubrey would be lying if she claimed that a bout of excitement didn't start swelling in her stomach. It has been forever since she's had some fun singing.

 

xxxxx

Fat Amy is the first to grab a microphone and she sings a song that Aubrey has never heard before. Chloe squeezes Aubrey's upper arm and drags her in front of everyone next. They sing that stupid I'm Only Me When I'm With You song that always makes Aubrey feel like Taylor Swift invaded her diary. It just fits them. They've been singing it during karaoke since their sophomore year of college. Aubrey keeps her eyes locked on Chloe because she can feel Beca glancing at them from time to time and she doesn't want to look at her. Fortunately, Chloe is so wrapped up in singing that she doesn't seem to notice. Aubrey forgets everyone by the middle of the song and is just focused on how much she loves singing with Chloe. Chloe never has any problem with expressing their friendship in public, and singing duets with her is one way Aubrey feels like she can do the same. She's comfortable singing, and she's just completely in her zone when she's doing it with Chloe.

The entire group of former Trebles steal the microphone after them. Aubrey steps back into the crowd that has gathered around to watch the singing and it occurs to her how weird it is that the only Bella and Treble alumni there are from her's and Chloe's senior year. She does a quick scan of the area for anyone that may have been in one of the A Cappella groups after she graduated. It really hits her how few people from Barden are on the boat. She shakes it off and leans into Chloe, who has an arm wrapped around her waist.

The Trebles sing several songs using only the microphone and none of the preprogrammed music and while most people stay entertained, Aubrey can see the Bellas begin to fidget with boredom. She slowly pulls away from Chloe and Chloe just crosses her arms and keeps watching the Trebles sing. Aubrey knows she has her hopes up that all of the Bellas will sing together again also, and as much as Aubrey hates that that would include Beca, she wants to keep singing too. She tries to focus on the Trebles, which is a terrible idea, because this only makes her want to steal the microphone from them even more. Chloe is staring longingly at the karaoke machine. She sighs when the Trebles start a new song.  _Damn it, Chloe._  Aubrey glances back at Beca and her laptop then scans the area for the nearest Bella other than Chloe. It's Amy.  _Perfect_. She glances at Chloe to make sure she's not paying attention to her then sidesteps through the crowd and stops beside Amy. "Hey," she whispers.

Amy glances at her then looks at the Trebles again. "I was more entertained by watching us run over that fish when we left the dock," she murmurs. She looks around at all those who have never seen the Trebles sing before and really are entertained by them. "We need to get up there."

Aubrey smirks. "You remember that time on the bus?" She keeps her voice low and keeps her eyes on the Trebles. "I think we need to recreate that."

Fat Amy scrunches her face and looks at her. "You want Bumper to throw another burrito at me?" she asks.

Can no one ever be on the same page as her for long? Aubrey scowls. "After that," she hisses.

"Oooh." It seems to sink in and Amy nods her head. "You mean when we were singing." She turns her head and looks back at Beca. "She looks like she could use a little motivation."

Aubrey pats Amy's arm so she'll stop staring at Beca and risk attracting her attention. "You get Chloe and the other Bellas," she directs her. She nods toward the Trebles. "I'll take care of them."

"Beca's not going to think it's weird that we're suddenly all surrounding her?" Amy asks.

"Just  _do it_ ," Aubrey instructs. She looks at Chloe. Chloe stares at her hands for a moment then looks up at the Trebles again. Sometimes Aubrey wishes she'd use some of her outgoing personality to be a little more assertive. She could just step up there and take the microphone. Or Aubrey could just step up there and take the microphone, but she thinks Chloe might like this idea better. Aubrey looks around then slips through the crowd toward Rodney as Amy moves in the other direction to collect the Bellas.

Rodney looks a lot like Jesse, only with less hair. Aubrey guesses that he's probably Jesse's uncle. He glances away from the Trebles as Aubrey approaches. "You have a request for them?" he asks.

Aubrey's nostrils flare in disgust at the thought of requesting a song for  _them._  "Do you have Miley Cyrus in here?" she asks and picks up the book that contains the list of karaoke songs. She flips it open and starts going through it. From the corner of her eye, she can see Chloe looking confused as Amy drags her across the boat.

"Yeah, there's a few of her songs in there," Rodney answered.

Aubrey breathes a sigh because she didn't have a backup plan. "I need Party in the USA," she says and puts the book down. "Start playing it, but as soon as someone starts singing, turn it off."

Rodney looks confused. Aubrey shoots him a look that clearly asks if she stuttered. She steps away from him and moves off to the side so she can see the Bellas gathering around Beca. The Trebles' mic shuts off and they look confused. Beca slowly removes her headphones once she realizes the boat is silent and there is a group of girls making a half circle around her. Chloe and the Bellas look completely lost, but Amy is grinning from ear to ear. Aubrey draws in a breath and just hopes that Chloe picks up quickly on what's happening.

It only takes about two notes before Chloe recognizes the song and realization dawns on her face. She temporarily freezes before a grin spreads across her face and she nearly starts flailing her hands in excitement. The other Bellas look at her like she's completely lost her mind until she starts singing. The music turns off and everyone else begins to pick up on what's happening.

Beca has a perplexed look on her face until multiple people are singing and the memory seems to hit her out of nowhere. She closes her laptop and folds her arms as she fights tooth and nail to hold back a smile. It doesn't last long. Chloe soon has her hands on Beca's legs and is singing about two inches from Beca's face and Aubrey can see her grin and mouth the words 'oh my god' as she leans back away from Chloe. Chloe locks eyes with Beca and Aubrey is content that Beca's only two choices seem to be to either sing or be uncomfortably serenaded by a tipsy Chloe. She knows which one  _she_  would choose.

Chloe stands up straight as they all go silent and wait for Beca to jump in and sing with them. Chloe offers a hand out to her, and Aubrey finds herself hoping that Beca takes it for once. Chloe has been going on and on about how much fun this trip is going to be for weeks now. Aubrey can be miserable about it all she wants, but there is no way she's going to let Chloe get upset this week when she has been so looking forward to seeing Beca again – even under circumstances that are painful to her. All eyes are on Beca as she sits there in silence for a second. Much to Aubrey's relief, she caves without too much thought and allows Chloe to tug her to her feet then starts singing. Chloe lets go of her hand as the entire group of girls start to dance. They're joined by several other members of the wedding party. The Trebles are all glaring at them – aside from Jesse who looks thoroughly entertained.

Aubrey realizes that it won't be long until someone notices she's not there – probably Chloe. She offers a brief 'thanks' to Rodney then sneaks back into the group as they continue the song. Chloe finds her within a matter of seconds and presses up against her as she dances with her hands above her head. Aubrey doesn't have to think before joining her. She looks more awkward just standing there than she does dancing in close proximity with Chloe. No one looks at them – aside from Beca, but she looks away as soon as Aubrey catches her eye. Aubrey ignores her and keeps singing.

Chloe finally ends out the song and the Bellas turn to face the Trebles. Aubrey steps forward. "You are," she starts. The rest of the Bellas end her sentence with, "cut off!"

Beca holds out her hand toward Jesse for the microphone with a smug grin on her face.

"Okay, okay," Jesse concedes with a grin and a nod as he hands it to her.

Aubrey turns to face the Trebles as they trudge out of the limelight. She takes her place beside Beca with Chloe on the other side of her and the rest of the Bellas behind them. She wishes she had the pitch pipe. The nostalgia she feels is almost overwhelming as she leads the Bellas into singing the remix that won them the ICCA finals. She feels at home again with these girls, and no one even mentions anything about how they're singing the same song twice.


	3. Chapter Three

 

**Arrhythmia**

* * *

  _Come up to meet you,_  
 _Tell you I'm sorry._  
 _You don't know how lovely you are._  
 _I had to find you,_  
 _Tell you I need you,_  
 _Tell you I set you apart._  
 _\- Coldplay_

* * *

The island looks like something out of a movie. Houses are built perfectly into the rocky terrain, just high enough above sea level that they won't flood every time it rains. Some of them have walkways that extend out over the water then turn around back in the direction of the road. Most people seem to own their own boats that are tied to homemade docks just outside their doors. They make her think that she and Chloe need a summer home one day once Aubrey has a real job. But somewhere more like Florida; not here in a place like this.

Aubrey places her hands on the metal rails of the boat so she won't fall off as she leans over to get a better look at her surroundings. She has to peer through a dense fog that seems to encompass the entire marina. Everything is misty and it's almost like she's in a dream. Or more like a hair-frizzing nightmare that makes her glad she chose to wear a hat. The muggy air makes moisture cling to her skin.

It's too hot out and she hopes that the weather changes by the end of the week. She's ready for the cool, dry Autumn air. This isn't the typical island vacation where it  _should_  be ninety degrees and sunny. Save that for an island she can actually enjoy herself on. She's not tanning on any of these beaches, nor does she plan to drag herself back and forth between whatever activities Beca has planned in the blistering heat. If their room has satellite TV and Wi-Fi, she may not even leave it other than to attend rehearsal and the wedding if the weather stays like this. The boat hits a wave made by a jet ski that makes her feel kind of seasick. She sighs and turns so her back is against the rails.

All around her, people are beginning to gather their things. Chloe is across the ferry talking to Beca about something as Beca gets her laptop and headphones together. It must not be about anything too serious, because while Beca doesn't look like she's saying much, she's not trying to brush Chloe off either. Singing together again made the atmosphere a lot lighter; and Aubrey is glad about that for Chloe's sake. Things feel a lot like they used to. Aubrey hates Beca. Chloe loves Beca. And Beca is just trying to go with the flow. Aubrey doesn't want to be caught staring, so she turns her head and continues to watch the houses pass by until the boat is being docked in the marina. People begin to gather by the ramp almost immediately. Aubrey stays back to avoid the crowd.

Chloe skirts around the group of people once Beca leaves to join Jesse. She turns her back to the railing so she's standing next to Aubrey then grips the top rail with both hands and lifts her foot to rest it on the bottom one. "I think this week is going to be nice," she says before Aubrey has a chance to say anything. She looks up at Aubrey with a closed-lipped smile and a gaze that tries to gouge her thoughts.

Aubrey opens her mouth to argue but then shuts it again and looks at everyone talking and laughing. After singing, it's hard not to be at least a little optimistic. "Okay, maybe  _kind of_  nice," she admits. "But we could still be having a nice time at home too."

"I don't know how you don't get bored at home," Chloe says. Her eyes are on all the people now. She links arms with Aubrey and absently brushes her fingers across the top of Aubrey's hands. "Don't you want to go out and make friends, Aubrey?"

Aubrey doesn't really know how to respond to that. She has friends. She keeps in touch with Fat Amy. She has coffee on a weekly basis with Brian the intern. The rest of the time, she's either at work or with Chloe, and she's content with that. "I have friends," is all she manages to retort with.

"Yeah, but don't you want new-"

"Okay, we're not arguing this week," Aubrey cuts her off with a tight smile. Chloe obediently stops talking without looking fazed at all. Chloe just interlaces their fingers and grips the rail tighter with her free hand as the boat hits the dock. Aubrey thinks by now that Chloe should just accept that she's content with the way things are. Only Aubrey isn't sure if she really is content, and that bothers her enough without Chloe's constant pressure for her to accept change. She draws in a deep breath and her face turns sour as she gets another lungful of fish and salt.

People begin to file off the boat and Aubrey hangs back until she and Chloe are two of the last guests on board. There's a tightness in her chest. The week may be nice now, but what are the chances it will end that way?

"Come on." Chloe steps forward away from the railing. She tugs on Aubrey's hand then turns and grabs her other hand as well. "No one is going to fight this weekend," she assures her and walks backward, pulling Aubrey toward the ramp. "I promise."

Aubrey still doesn't understand how Chloe can just guess what she's worried about all the time. She doesn't believe her reassurance though. They're on an island with Beca and Jesse. Someone is going to start a fight and she knows exactly who it will be blamed on. She drops one of her hands back to her side and walks faster so she's beside Chloe rather than allowing Chloe to pull her off the boat like she had to be dragged onto it. She wishes she would have moved a little faster when she sees their bags being dragged away from the ferry on a cart. She's not sure she trusts cheaply paid crewmen with her things.

 

 

xxxxx

The docks are a little less surreal than the scenery on the way in. Fishermen clad in heavy aprons and elbow-length gloves weave their way around the wedding party. Aubrey tenses and presses in closer to Chloe to avoid being touched by them. Her shirt cost way too much to get fish guts on it.

On one side of them, a man dumps a bucket full of crabs into a plastic tub. On Chloe's side, someone slams a sharp knife down on a fish to remove the head. Aubrey just wrinkles her nose while Chloe chokes on a breath and immediately turns in toward Aubrey, lifting a hand to the side of her face to block the fish from her line of view as the man proceeds to cut it open. Aubrey rolls her eyes. She lets go of Chloe's hand and places both hands on her shoulders, guiding her around to the other side, away from the fish.

"That's probably our dinner tonight," Aubrey informs her with a teasing smirk.

Chloe gags. "Oh my god," she mutters and lifts both hands to the sides of her face to give herself tunnel vision and not look at any of the fish. "Aubrey,  _don't_."

_Drama queen._ Aubrey keeps smirking but stops talking before they're hosing both fish blood and Chloe's vomit off the docks. For as long as Aubrey has known Chloe, she has never been good around violence. She can't even watch it in movies most of the time. Heck, she even makes Aubrey carry live bugs outside because killing them would be a travesty of insect justice or something. Aubrey slides an arm around her shoulders and lifts her hand to help her block out the fishermen's work until it's completely out of view. "Are you okay?" she asks when their feet reach the asphalt.

Chloe slowly lowers her hands down to her sides and nods her head. "Yeah," she answers and nods as she wipes her palms against her pants. "Yeah, I'm good." She swallows and looks up at Aubrey, looking slightly pale from disgust.

"Good." Aubrey squeezes her shoulder then lets her arm fall back down to her side. Chloe remains close, bumping up against her as they make their way toward a line of golf carts that Aubrey assumes are going to take them to the inn. Most people have already piled into the carts. Aubrey leads them to an empty one near the back so the two of them can sit together. She knows Chloe would have no problem sitting with someone she doesn't know, but Aubrey doesn't feel like going through awkward introductions at the moment. She doesn't want to know what Beca has told people about her.

Aubrey climbs onto the golf cart first then scoots over to make room for Chloe. She glances at the driver who doesn't look back and looks far less than thrilled to be hauling them around. Chloe sits down beside Aubrey. She slouches down and raises her legs so her knees are resting on the seat in front of her. "Do you really think we're going to be eating fish for dinner tonight?" she asks and scrunches her nose. It makes Aubrey regret even saying anything because now she's probably going to have to hear about how marine life is killed for the rest of her life. Things could be worse though. She could have to continue to hear about how it lives.

"This isn't my wedding, Chloe," Aubrey reminds her and tries to get comfortable against the hard seat. "You'll have to ask Beca what everyone is having for dinner."

"Maybe she'll tell them to make me something other than fish," Chloe says and turns her head to look at their surroundings.

Beca walks by the golf cart with her headphones around her neck and her laptop case in her hand. Chloe straightens up and roughly shoots across the seat. She slams into Aubrey so hard that Aubrey nearly falls out the other side. "What the hell, Chloe?!" Aubrey demands and balances herself with one hand on the roof of the car.

"Beca, there's room!" Chloe calls, not acknowledging Aubrey's outburst.

Aubrey huffs and shoves Chloe back over onto her own side of the seat.

Beca stops walking and looks at the two of them with raised eyebrows. More specifically at Aubrey. Aubrey wants to nail her for being the reason she just nearly fell out of a golf cart. Beca clenches her teeth together and glances in the direction they're about to start heading. "I think I'm just gonna walk," she says and takes a half-step away from the golf cart.

"We can walk," Chloe says with a grin. She attempts to stand, but Aubrey grabs the back of her shirt and pulls her back down. Chloe falls on the seat and grips Aubrey's leg to steady herself. "Come on, Aubrey," she says and cranes her neck to look at her. "It's probably not even that far."

"Chloe, we're not walking and that's that," Aubrey says firmly. Over her dead body will she walk alone through the woods where there will be no witnesses if Beca kills her.

Beca makes a face at Aubrey's tone and Aubrey shoots her a look. "I'll see you there," Beca says to Chloe. She adjusts her headphones around her neck and keeps walking. Jesse hops off the cart he was sitting on and follows her. Beca glances at him and smiles.

Chloe's eyes follow the two of them as they disappear in front of the line of golf carts. Aubrey realizes that she's watching them walk away too. She shakes her head and looks at Chloe. She really hopes she didn't step into this thinking that Beca would change her mind. "Chloe, you're practically sitting on me," she says and pushes her away again to distract her.

Chloe blinks a few times then spins to look at her. "Hey, it's not my fault your butt is taking up half the seat," she retorts and smirks as she pushes her back.

Aubrey's jaw drops and she gapes at her. "Did you just suggest I have a fat ass?" she asks and pushes her harder.

"I like your ass," Chloe announces with a wide grin. This gets the driver's attention. She turns her head and looks at the two of them as if they're aliens.

Aubrey's cheeks flush with warmth and she covers her face with her hand. "You did not just say that out loud," she murmurs.

"Your ass is hot," Chloe confirms her previous statement and settles back against the seat as the golf cart starts to move. "You have like the hottest ass out of anyone I know." She pauses. "Though Beca's is pretty nice too," she muses.

Aubrey is sure that her face is bright red. "Stop talking," she demands though doesn't sound nearly as forceful as she would have hoped.

"I don't know why you can't take a compliment," Chloe admonishes her and shakes her head.

"Because there's a difference between complimenting me and sexually assaulting me, Chloe," Aubrey answers.

Chloe rolls her eyes. "I am not sexually assaulting you," she replies and folds her arms. She nudges Aubrey's side with elbow. "Although I can when we get to our room, if you want."

Aubrey moves her hand and gives her a look of disapproval. Chloe just grins at her. Aubrey turns to face determinedly forward and sits stiffly against the seat. She realizes that she should have considered allowing Beca to kill her in the woods. But she knows that walking alone in the forest with Beca and Chloe would probably lead to the only thing with the potential to be more passionate than brutal murder.


	4. Chapter Four

**Arrhythmia**

* * *

  
_Come up to meet you,_   
_Tell you I'm sorry._   
_You don't know how lovely you are._   
_I had to find you,_   
_Tell you I need you,_   
_Tell you I set you apart._   
_\- Coldplay_   


* * *

Aubrey had learned from a brochure that Beca sent out that the place they would be staying in was a boutique hotel built during the early 1900s during the prohibition. The pictures didn't do it justice. It's built like a mansion. Aubrey is used to staying in grandeur hotels, but The Candlewick Inn is nothing like any place she's ever vacationed in before. She tries not to look too in awe as she steps off the golf cart and admires the three story building in front of her. She doesn't want Beca to show up and know that she thinks she actually did something right for once. But the place is surrounded by gorgeous foliage and acres of land, and it's a pleasant change of pace from the cramped city. It doesn't even smell like seawater despite being less than a mile away from the marina. Instead, the heavy aroma of flowers and crab apples lingers in the air. It's sickeningly strong and sweet, and Aubrey loves it. She inhales deeply and holds the breath for a moment before slowly exhaling.

"You gonna have to drag me home from this place," Cynthia-Rose says as she's the first to march toward the buildings then up the steps to the entrance.

"There's five minutes left of continental breakfast," Fat Amy announces and passes Cynthia-Rose on the way to the door. Everyone else begins to follow them into the inn. Aubrey grins.

Chloe stands up and slips her arms around Aubrey's waist from behind. She presses her chin against her shoulder. "I told you it wouldn't be as bad as you thought, Aubrey," she says. "It smells kind of weird though." She nuzzles her nose against Aubrey's shoulder blade.

Aubrey rolls her eyes.  _Of course_  Chloe can stand the disgusting ocean but thinks that  _apples_  smell 'weird'. Aubrey wouldn't expect anything less. "Ooh, our bags," she says as she cart rolls past them. She pats Chloe's arms to be released then follows swiftly after the man rolling the cart until he stops. She grabs both of her bags.

"Aubrey, they're going to take them to our room," Chloe says and follows her with her arms folded. She makes no attempt to wrestle her own bags out from the pile.

Aubrey politely thanks the man with the cart then turns to face Chloe once he's rolling it away again. "When your bags don't show up, you're not using my toothbrush again," she says simply. Not that Chloe asked to use it last time that happened. Chloe has a habit of just assuming Aubrey won't care if she uses her things. She's more of the 'it's easier to ask forgiveness than permission' type and it's enough to drive Aubrey up a wall. She adjusts the strap of her bag over her shoulder. "You're not wearing my clothes either." She thinks maybe that's the wrong thing to say, because Chloe has no qualms with running around naked.

"I'm already wearing your socks," Chloe says matter-of-factly and looks down at her sneakers. She makes a face. "Mine were all in the hamper."

"Chloe, I thought you were doing laundry yesterday morning," Aubrey replies in exasperation.

Chloe shrugs it off. "I got busy," she replies simply.

"What could you possibly be doing on a Saturday morning?" Aubrey asks. She's not sure she really wants to know. Most of the time Chloe's version of being busy means she didn't even wake up until noon.

"There was a Supernatural marathon on," Chloe replies with a grin and bobs her head. "Sam and Dean are hot."

Aubrey can't deny that last statement but she looks at Chloe in annoyed confusion nonetheless. "You can't do laundry and watch Supernatural at the same time?" she asks.

"It always makes me scared that something is going to, like, pop out of the dryer and drag me in," Chloe says and looks dazed as though she's actually imagining that happening. Aubrey thinks Chloe really needs to stop watching so much television during her free time – that shouldn't really be  _free time_ , mind you. "If Sam Winchester looks at my body, I don't want it to be burnt to a crisp in our dryer," she continues, "I'd rather be possessed by a demon." She furrows her brow. "Maybe by Meg."

"Chloe, Sam Winchester is not a real person," Aubrey says slowly. "The only person who is going to see your body burnt to a crisp in our dryer is me after I throw you in it because I got sick of doing your laundry." She turns on her heel and begins lugging her things up the stairs toward the inn's entrance.

"I don't think you understand the concept of television, Aubrey," Chloe says and follows her.

Did she really just accuse her of not understanding the concept of  _television_  after claiming she didn't want Sam Winchester to find her dead in their dryer? Of course she did. Aubrey rolls her eyes and refrains from arguing. Her point would be moot and she's not going to waste her energy. She pulls open the inn door and ushers Chloe inside then follows her. "How do you even watch that show when you can't even stand to see a fish get killed? You close your eyes and flinch during the scene in Tangled where Rapunzel hits Flynn with a frying pan."

"That's different," Chloe claims. She stops and turns to face her.

Aubrey stops and leans against the handle of her suitcase. "Why? Because Rapunzel isn't as attractive when she hits people as Sam is?" she asks.

"Not because of  _that_ ," Chloe defends herself and shakes her head. "I don't watch  _Beca_ when she hits people," she says as if that backs up her statement.

Beca walks in the door just as she says it. She gives the two of them a weird look that makes Aubrey feel like she's being judged by everyone around them despite that no one else even seems to realize they're there. Beca's lips press together and she doesn't look like she holds much interest in what the two of them are actually discussing, even though it involves her now. That doesn't stop Chloe from including her in on the conversation.

"Sam Winchester takes out the bad guys," Chloe informs Beca with a smile.

"I, I don't know who that is," Beca says. She shakes her head then keeps walking.

"Sam Winchester started an apocalypse," Aubrey reminds her in a hushed tone.

"I didn't watch that part," Chloe replies, still smiling. She shakes her head. "It scared me."

Aubrey is going to throttle Chloe one of these days. Really, she is. She makes a mental note to do that before she puts her in the dryer. She gives up on the conversation and turns to face the interior of the inn.

The inside is equally as gorgeous as the outside. Hardwood floors are covered by patterned carpets that match the maroon drapes. There are old photos on the walls and flowers in vases. The place seems rather understaffed for the amount of maintenance that must be required though. In the middle of the lobby, there is only a short, stout woman who looks to be in her sixties that is handing out room keys and tending to the masses. She seems at ease working hard to make sure everyone knows where they need to go. Aubrey assumes she must have worked in the inn for a while, and maybe that she even owns the place. She's smiling cheerfully as she greets everyone and seems to be making small talk as she tells them where their rooms are. It's almost as if she's inviting them into her home.

Aubrey places her bag on the floor then lowers her hand onto the table beside her. Her fingers brush against something and nearly knock it over but she quickly makes to grab it before it falls. She glances down to see what she's touching and the piano figure quickly holds her attention. She looks at Chloe, who has her hands clasped in front of her as is watching everyone in silence now, then slides her fingers across the wooden object. There is a metal crank on the side and she realizes it must be a music box. She turns to the side and places her other hand on the table then presses down on the piano keys, wondering if they make noise. They don't. Her brows furrow in interest either way.

She doesn't notice the woman who was handing out keys approach her and Chloe after everyone is finally settled. "You know, that thing has been around longer than I have," the woman comments, "It was my late husband's grandfather's, passed down over the years." She doesn't pause as Aubrey looks at her. "We never had any kids, so now it's here. It's probably worth more than half of the stuff in here put together."

Aubrey snaps her hand back and immediately stops touching it. She usually knows better than to touch things that don't belong to her. She rushes to apologize when Chloe cheerfully cuts her off with, "Aubrey loves pianos. She's amazing at playing them."

"Chloe, I'm not that good," Aubrey denies modestly.

"What are you talking about?" Chloe replies in sincere confusion. "You're great."

"Look at those piano playing fingers you have," the woman comments and grabs Aubrey's hand. She looks at her fingers the clasps Aubrey's hand between both of her own. "My husband had those long piano fingers too. His piano is still in the ballroom. You'll have to play it for us all."

Aubrey opens her mouth to reject the offer then shuts it again and looks at her hand. She's used to Chloe constantly touching her, but not other people. She glances over at Chloe, who just grins and nods eagerly. "Maybe sometime this week," she says, hoping that will earn her her hand back. It has been a while since she's had the opportunity to play a piano. Her hand is dropped and she tries to seem casual as she folds her arms.

"Ooh," the woman says enthusiastically and picks up the music box. "But first you have to play this."

Aubrey doesn't realize she's offering it to her until it's thrust out in front of her. She slowly unfolds her arms and shakes her head. "No thank you," she says with a polite smile. She's not going to touch something that's worth more money than she has in her bank account. She awkwardly scratches her jaw and shakes her head.

"Aubrey, you were just looking at it like it was made of gold," Chloe states. She's never any help at all. But then she is, because Aubrey really wants to wind up the piano and listen to whatever it plays.

"No one has touched this since my husband died." The woman's voice is so matter-of-fact that Aubrey wonders how long ago he passed. "I would be honored for another music lover to wind it up again."

It sinks in that she's not getting out of this. Aubrey slowly takes the piano from her like it's made of glass that could easily be shattered. She winds up the crank then stares at it as nothing happens.

"Open the panels above the keys," the woman directs her.

Aubrey does as she's told. She slides the thin wooden panels off to the sides and the keys begin to bounce up and down. For a moment, the box is silent. Chloe clutches her arm and leans over to get a better look at it. It takes a second, but Wedding of the Winds begins to creak out. It obviously needs to be oiled, but both Aubrey's and Chloe's eyes light up nonetheless. Chloe squeezes Aubrey's arm.

Aubrey is slightly mesmerized. Or a lot mesmerized. She grins then makes an 'o' shape with her mouth as her eyes follow the keys. The music quits before the keys do. The crank makes a clicking noise before everything comes to a stop. "That is the most beautiful thing I have ever seen," she says. She wants to play it again, but she carefully hands it back.

The woman has tears in her eyes as she takes it and places it back on the stand.

"Your entire inn is gorgeous," Chloe points out and looks around.

The woman places one hand on Chloe's shoulder and the other on her cheek as she smiles at her. "You are precious," she coos. Chloe grins and looks almost shyly at the floor. Aubrey rolls her eyes. Chloe is anything but shy. She watches them for a moment, wondering how two people who have just met can be so comfortably touchy-feely with each other, but then she's snapped out of her thoughts by the woman finally introducing herself properly.

"I'm Maggie and I own the Candlewick," she says as steps back and clasps her hands together in front of her. "You two are obviously Aubrey and Chloe."

Chloe grins and nods. "That's Aubrey," she says and points to Aubrey. "I'm Chloe." Aubrey is pretty sure the woman already knows that, but she doesn't have a chance to say anything.

"There is a special room booked just for the two of you," Maggie says without missing a beat as Chloe stops talking.

Aubrey furrows her brows and looks off in the direction that everyone else went in. She didn't book any special room for herself and Chloe. She didn't even know there were any special rooms. "But I booked-"

"Don't worry about the price," Maggie cuts her off. "It's the same rate as the room you originally booked. The bride and groom called me last week and they requested this room especially for you."

Great. If Beca booked it for her, it's probably a death trap. Or a jail cell that she'll never get out of. Or something. Aubrey looks at Chloe to see if she knew anything about this but Chloe just looks at her in confusion and shrugs. Her expression is enough that Aubrey knows she honestly had no idea about this either. "We can stay in our regular room," Aubrey intervenes. "We don't want to be an inconvenience."

"Aubrey, come on," Chloe says and shakes her head. "If Beca booked us a special room, the least we can do is stay in it."

"Chloe, I booked us a room," Aubrey says. She doesn't need any favors from Beca. "We can stay in that one." She lifts the strap of her bag back up onto her shoulder then turns and grabs her suitcase with that same hand.

"Now, there is no need for arguing," Maggie cuts in. She grabs Chloe's hand then takes Aubrey's also. "I promise you are going to love this room." She walks with Chloe and half drags Aubrey back toward the way they came in.

Aubrey blinks a few times then picks up speed to follow when it hits her that this woman has a tight grip on her hand and is not letting her get away. She realizes in horror that she's suddenly being dragged away by Chloe and Chloe thirty years from now. She hopes Beca gets stuck in a 'special' room with the two of them together. It'll be the perfect payback for whatever is wrong with this room.


	5. Chapter Five

**Arrhythmia**

* * *

  
_Come up to meet you,_   
_Tell you I'm sorry._   
_You don't know how lovely you are._   
_I had to find you,_   
_Tell you I need you,_   
_Tell you I set you apart._   
_\- Coldplay_   


* * *

Aubrey doesn't really expect the room to be  _completely_  awful. That would be too predictable. To be honest, she doesn't know what she expects at all. The entire thing has taken her completely off-guard. Maybe that was the point. But whatever she thinks the room is going to be like, she definitely doesn't expect it to be a suite.

Maggie leads the two of them back out through the way they came in and around toward the side of the inn - past a wide array of different foliage. The place is even bigger than Aubrey thought it was when she first saw it from the front. Halfway around, she manages to pry her hand away from Maggie and walk to the side so that she's beside Chloe instead. "Did they say why they thought we needed this room?" she asks. She's starting to think that it's because it's so far away from everyone else. It's a good enough way for Beca to keep Aubrey and Chloe out of her hair all week. Not that Aubrey wants to be close enough to Beca to bother her anyway.

"They didn't give a reason, Dear," Maggie responds. She lets go of Chloe's hand to dig the keys out of her pocket.

That's not a good enough answer. If Aubrey doesn't get a reason from Maggie, she's going to have to approach Beca and ask her. There has to be a catch, because a special room didn't just come out of the kindness of Beca's cold, black heart. She stops asking questions and ignores Chloe as she receives a light-hearted elbow to the arm. She'll just pay whatever extra the room is supposed to cost at the end of the week. She has some money, and she wouldn't accept charity from Beca even if she didn't.

"Now, we only have two of these rooms," Maggie says as she stops in front of a door on the side of the building. The walls stick out a little further there than they do elsewhere. "The bride and groom are staying in the one around back near the pool."

Aubrey really wishes she'd stop referring to Beca and Jesse as 'the bride and groom' when their names would suffice just fine. It's just that Chloe's smile gets tighter when she says it. Aubrey knows that Chloe is going to have to face that Beca is getting married during the wedding, but that doesn't mean either Aubrey or Chloe have to like that. She knows Chloe's trying her best to be happy for her though. She stops a few inches in front of Chloe and rests her hand on the handle of her bag as she waits for Maggie to unlock the door.

Maggie opens the door then steps to the side as she makes a hand motion to usher both girls in.

Aubrey glances back at Chloe then takes a step closer to the door and peers inside. The place looks only slightly smaller than their apartment does. From where she's standing, she can see the living room and part of a kitchen. Her mouth falls open in confusion and she searches for words. She considers maybe Beca is trying to make up to Chloe, because that's the only thing that would explain this.

Chloe isn't as obsessed with reason. She grins and walks past Aubrey, slapping her ass on her way into the living room. It successfully snaps Aubrey out of her daze and she jumps. "Chloe!" she scolds.

"You weren't moving," Chloe says innocently. She stops in the middle of the living room and turns in a full circle. "Aubrey, look at this place!"

Aubrey steps inside so she can get a good look at where they're going to be staying. The living room is fully furnished, as is the kitchen. There is a hall to the left where she suspects the bedrooms and bathroom are.

Chloe turns to face her. "Beca is totally looking out for you this week."

Aubrey makes a note about how Chloe says 'you' rather than 'us'. She wants to comment, but she can't make sense of anything yet. She's sure she'll have plenty say when all of this sinks in though. For now, she'll just let Chloe enjoy the moment.

"If you girls need anything at all, just call the front desk and someone will be here right away," Maggie tells them from the doorway. Aubrey forgot she was there already. She glances up. "There is always someone at the front desk, day or night," Maggie finishes.

"…thank you," Aubrey says slowly and furrows her brows.

"We really appreciate this," Chloe tells Maggie with more than enough enthusiasm for both of them. Aubrey's pretty sure she's trying to cover for her lack of excitement.

"Oh," Maggie tacks on, "And just so you know, you two are a gorgeous couple. I hope you'll consider letting us host your wedding whenever you're ready to tie the knot." She smiles sweetly at them then shuts the door.

Chloe grins and Aubrey doesn't even bother to correct her. She's gone anyway. "Is it even legal for us to get married in this state?" Aubrey asks. She has no idea.

Chloe shrugs her shoulders and rushes forward. "Who cares," she replies and places her hands on Aubrey's shoulders, their faces only centimeters apart. Aubrey thinks she's going to kiss her, but she doesn't. She's almost disappointed. "We have to see the rest of this place," Chloe says as she spins around and looks to both sides then turns and starts down the hall.

Aubrey heaves a heavy sigh then tugs on the handle of her suitcase and reluctantly follows after her.

xxxxx

There is only one bedroom and it has just one queen sized bed. Aubrey doesn't know why she's surprised. Maggie did think that she and Chloe were a couple after all. She wonders if Beca told her they were over the phone and isn't sure how Beca could possibly think that. But it's not really a big deal. It's not like she and Chloe sleep separately at home. Sure, they have their own rooms with their own beds, but their habit of crawling into bed with one another continued even after they left college. Aubrey ends up in Chloe's bed on nights before there is surely going to be stress the next day and Chloe falls asleep in Aubrey's bed every other night. It's more of a matter of comfort than anything else though. They both just sleep easier when the other is there.

Aubrey kneels on the hardwood floor in the bedroom and begins to unpack her things from her suitcase and place them neatly in the dresser. There are four drawers and she leaves the two on the right side for Chloe. Chloe's bags haven't arrived yet, but she's sure she'll be unpacking those too or else Chloe will just live out of her suitcase for the week. If Aubrey doesn't keep Chloe's things neat, there will just be piles of clothes all over the bedroom. She really doesn't mind picking up after Chloe as much as she claims she does though. She doesn't  _enjoy_  it, but it's just one of those things that reminds her how close they are. Nothing screams 'best friends' like finding Chloe's underwear lodged between the couch cushions after Chloe dumps her laundry there to 'fold it'.

"I am so having sex in here!" Chloe announces from somewhere outside the room.

Aubrey's head snaps up. She looks away from the pair of jeans she's refolding and glances toward the doorway then shakes her head and looks back down. Chloe has been trying to lure her into sleeping with her since – well, okay, Chloe is  _always_  trying to lure Aubrey into sleeping with her. But Chloe hasn't even been dragging home random people from the bar lately, so she's been rather persistent for the last few weeks. Aubrey thinks she must have slept with all of the regulars and the non-regulars just aren't that good looking. She wonders what the locals look like as she places her jeans in the dresser drawer. Then she wonders where Chloe plans to have sex with these people. Hopefully nowhere Aubrey is going to walk in on it. That happens far too often. She groans and pushes herself to her feet as curiosity gets the best of her.

The hall is empty and Aubrey doesn't see Chloe in the living room. She doubts Chloe would be having sex in the kitchen, but then again who knows with Chloe. She scratches her head and steps toward the living room before she notices the door to what she thought was a closet is open and the light inside is on. She takes a step backward then turns around walks to the room then peers inside. It's definitely not a closet. The room is set up as a walk-in shower.

"Ooh," Aubrey hums in approval and joins Chloe inside. The room is covered in brown and tan ceramic tiles with the front portion set up as a place to keep clothes and towels dry and the back portion set up as the actual shower. There are shower jets sticking out of the wall with buttons for different options and a removable showerhead. Chloe is holding the showerhead and looking it over and Aubrey doesn't even want to know what she's thinking about using it for. She makes a mental note to only use the jets on the wall and remembers why she's in the room to begin with.

"You are not having sex in our shower where  _I_  have to shower too," Aubrey warns her.

Chloe smirks and looks up from the showerhead. She eyes Aubrey and leans in, speaking in that seductive voice of hers that makes all of Aubrey's nerves tingle. "Not even if it's with you?" she asks. She gives Aubrey a once over and winks at her.

"Maybe if it's in your head," Aubrey retorts. Chloe looks like she's actually considering that. Aubrey scoffs as her cheeks flush and she folds her arms. "I was  _joking_."

There's a sudden knock on the door and Chloe leans back to stare down the hall. "That's probably my bags," she says. She shoves the showerhead into Aubrey's hands. "I'll be right back." She turns and bounces out of the room to get the door.

Aubrey glances down at the showerhead and groans. She puts it back and stalks back to the bedroom, unsure of why she even left to humor Chloe's antics to begin with. As she kneels back down to continue putting away her things, she's just glad their showerhead at home isn't removable.

 


	6. Chapter Six

**Arrhythmia**

* * *

  
_Come up to meet you,_   
_Tell you I'm sorry._   
_You don't know how lovely you are._   
_I had to find you,_   
_Tell you I need you,_   
_Tell you I set you apart._   
_\- Coldplay_   


* * *

Aubrey faces her reflection in the full length mirror in the bedroom as she finishes buttoning the crisp, white shirt that she plans to wear to dinner. She stands up straight and smooths it down at the sides. Her black skirt is folded neatly on the ironing board beside her, along with Chloe's dress. The evening is supposed to be semi-formal and she feels like she looks like one of the former Bellas again with her hair pulled up in a tight bun and her choice of attire strictly professional. She smiles at herself in the mirror and adjusts the collar of her shirt.

She's tempted to put on the Bellas scarf for old time's sake. It's folded in the dresser along with her other clothes. She wears it on the days that she's particularly missing A Cappella. Chloe wears hers on occasion as well. Aubrey backs up to the dresser then squats down and pulls open the lower drawer. She grabs her scarf from the side and places it on top the dresser beside where all of her makeup is spread out. She closes the drawer and stands up then picks up her eye shadow palette and opens it. She's about to start applying her makeup when Chloe is yelling at her from the shower.

"Aubrey, I think I left my towel on the bed!" Chloe calls.

Aubrey groans and places the palette back on the dresser. She turns around to look at the bed. Sure enough, there's a red towel folded at the bottom of it. She sighs and grabs it then flings it over her shoulder as she marches out of the bedroom and to the shower. She's going to be completely done getting ready before Chloe even gets out of the shower. Not that that is really anything new. She pushes open the door without knocking and removes the towel from her shoulder. "You need to start remembering to take everything with you," she tells Chloe. This is the reason they're always late.

Chloe grins at the towel without acknowledging the lecture. "Thanks," she says. "But could you shut the door? You're letting all the cold air in."

Right. How  _dare_  Aubrey let all the cold air into the room after she so graciously went out of her way to bring Chloe the towel that she forgot? She scowls as she takes a step in and shuts the door behind her. It's not until the door latches and she turns to face a devious-looking Chloe that realizes she walked right into her trap. She looks at the door again and then back at Chloe. "Okay, Chloe, we really need to get ready," she says firmly and tries to keep eye-contact with her. Her gaze falters. She places the towel on the hook. Her eyes accidentally fall to Chloe's breasts and she immediately snaps her gaze back up to her face again. Her cheeks are burning. She reaches behind her for the door handle, fumbling when she can't find it.

"Aubrey, come on," Chloe insists as though Aubrey's resistance isn't already weak enough. "I haven't had anything for the past three months except for my own hand. We're on  _vacation_. Let's have some fun." She smirks. "I can relax you."

"Chloe, your hand gets the job done just fine," Aubrey blurts out. That didn't come out the way it was supposed to. "That's not what I meant," she sputters and tries to emphasize the point with her hand. She's trying hard to keep her brain on track, but Chloe isn't going to make this easy.

"Yeah, but your fingers are longer," Chloe replies casually. "Plus, you touching me is way more of a turn on than me touching me."

Aubrey begs to differ. She groans at the thought and clamps her eyes shut. She tries to make words, but her argument just catches in her throat. It's been awhile since she's been laid. A really long while. But she doesn't want to concede, mostly because she already told Chloe no. Sometimes she hates how she likes to stick to her guns. She's starting to sweat whether it be from the shower steam or the conversation. Her fingers finally find the door handle, but she makes the mistake of reopening her eyes and realizing that Chloe is staring at her bare legs before she has a chance to make an exit. There is a rush of warmth to her center as she takes in Chloe's dilated pupils staring at her thighs. Aubrey realizes the smell of sex overpowers the scent of Chloe's soap and her cheeks flush a deep shade of red. The two of them look up again and lock eyes.

Chloe inhales deeply then gives a melodramatic sigh. "C'est la vie," she accepts defeat. She takes a step back and places her hand on her lower stomach and slides it down between her legs. Her head falls back and her lips part in a quiet gasp as she makes contact with herself.

Aubrey's eyes follow Chloe's hand as it disappears between her legs and she's not sure the noise of protest she makes can even be considered an actual word. Chloe isn't playing fair. She thinks she's going to leave, but then her hand drops from the door handle. In one swift motion, she's across the shower and crashing her lips against Chloe's in a fiery kiss. It takes all of two seconds for Chloe to have her tongue in Aubrey's mouth and she grasps the shirt that Aubrey forgot she was wearing. Aubrey is temporarily glad she brought extra clothes as the shower water cascades down over them, but she loses her train of thought again as she's being shoved up against the cold shower tiles. The combination of scalding and freezing leaves her moaning in pleasure against Chloe's soft lips.

Aubrey has never had sex in a shower before. The one they have at home is too small, and that's one place she always drew the line at with Chloe in college. She leans her head back and it hits the tiles as Chloe unbuttons her shirt and simultaneously kisses down her neck. The sopping wet article of clothing hits the floor and is followed immediately by her bra. She inhales sharply and entangles her fingers in Chloe's hair as Chloe kisses across her collarbone then works her way back up her neck and to her jaw. Moisture soaks the insides of her thighs and she's sure it's not from the shower water. She doesn't understand how Chloe always gets her worked up so quickly. Maybe it's because Chloe knows everywhere to touch. Her fingers graze Aubrey's lower stomach as her lips press against a sensitive area between her neck and shoulder. Aubrey can't stop the whimper that escapes her lips. The light sensation of Chloe's fingers as they trace their way up her sides is enough to drive her insane.

She doesn't allow Chloe to be in control for long though. She flips their positions and raises Chloe's hands up above her head, interlocking their fingers. Their hips press together and Chloe bucks up against her. She tries to wriggle her hands free, but Aubrey presses them hard against the tiles. Chloe closes her eyes and leans her head back, drawing in a breath as Aubrey kisses just below her earlobe. She sucks on the skin there and holds Chloe's hands with one of her own as her other hand traces down her body and her fingers slide down to her core. Aubrey traces her thumb in circles then presses two fingers into her. Chloe whimpers and tries to rock her hips, but Aubrey makes sure she's held firmly in place against the wall.

Aubrey is a perfectionist and that extends to making sure every time she has sex with Chloe is better than the last time. That's not easy considering the amount of sex they've had over the past eight years. But she knows all of the right places to touch, the most tantalizing speed to move her fingers at, and that Chloe doesn't like when things are boring. She nips at Chloe's neck and lets go of her hands to hit the button for the jets on the wall. The water pulsates against Chloe's back and Aubrey is sure Chloe's legs would give out if she wasn't holding her upright. Chloe's hands grip Aubrey's shoulder blades as Aubrey begins sliding her fingers back and forth, making good use of their length.

Chloe's labored breathing and moans echo throughout the entire room.  _Good acoustics._

Aubrey's own arousal is becoming almost unbearable. The stream of water hits her back and she swears she can feel every droplet gliding down the inside of her legs. She rocks her hips to give her movements more force then adds a third fingers and drives Chloe over the edge by curling her fingers inside of her. Chloe tightens around Aubrey's fingers and her nails dig into her shoulders hard enough that Aubrey suspects she's going to have marks. Aubrey can't complain though because Chloe is going to be figuring out how to cover the hickey on her neck before they attend dinner. Or, knowing Chloe, she may just show it off. But Aubrey will definitely be wearing something to cover the scratches that Chloe leaves.

Chloe straightens up and tenderly presses her lips against Aubrey's once she's regained most of her composure. Aubrey's eyes fall shut. Chloe's hands find her breasts and it takes every ounce of self-control Aubrey has not to shove her back against the wall and forget about her own needs. She just wants to touch her. The kiss deepens and Chloe slides her hands lightly down Aubrey's stomach then pushes her panties down over her hips. Aubrey quickly wiggles them down further then grabs them and lifts one leg at a time as she steps out of them. She tosses them to the side with her shirt and bra. Chloe wastes no time slipping two fingers into her and moving them back and forth with ease.

Aubrey is so close already, but Chloe is suddenly fumbling with something behind her and it throws off the rhythm. She can't concentrate on anything with Chloe's fingers still sliding in and out of her. "Chloe, what-" she breathlessly tries to make some coherent words as the spray of water stops hitting her. Chloe spins her around before she can form an actual sentence and it's Aubrey's turn to be pressed up against the wall. The showerhead slips between Aubrey's legs and she hits her head hard against the tiles. "Chloe, fuck," are the only words she manages to form as pleasure courses throughout her entire body. Her chest rises and falls as a rapid pace. She leans further back against the wall because her legs threaten to give out from under her. "Other people have to use th-tha-" The showerhead begins moving in tantalizing circles and Aubrey grips Chloe's hips. To hell with other people. Aubrey's loud cry is quickly muffled by Chloe's mouth and she tightens hard around Chloe's fingers as her entire body ignites.

"We're buying one of these when we get home," Aubrey breathes against Chloe's lips once she's down from the high. She grabs the showerhead from Chloe's hands and takes her moan as a sign of agreement as she sets out to see how many times she can make Chloe come with it without being late for dinner.

The answer is three.


	7. Chapter Seven

**Arrhythmia**

* * *

  
_Come up to meet you,_   
_Tell you I'm sorry._   
_You don't know how lovely you are._   
_I had to find you,_   
_Tell you I need you,_   
_Tell you I set you apart._   
_\- Coldplay_   


* * *

The ballroom is extravagant and the grand piano is everything that Aubrey hoped it would be. It's the first thing that catches her eye as she and Chloe stop near the doorway. They're exactly on time. People are filing in and mingling around the round tables. Aubrey stands poised and collected off to the side and Chloe is her normal bubbly self as she stares into the room with delight. The only reminder of their earlier shower excursion is the stinging in Aubrey's shoulders. She opted for wearing a white sundress to dinner because she realized the scratches are high enough that her hair easily covers them. The blonde locks fall down over her shoulders in loose, natural waves. It's not like she even had time to fix her hair back up after it got wet in the shower. Not while Chloe was hogging the bathroom.

"Look, there's Ashley and Jessica!" Chloe pipes up and leans forward on her toes.

Aubrey isn't even sure who she's talking about until she spots them. She recognizes their faces immediately and feels momentarily guilty that she has already forgotten their names. Then again, she's not sure if she ever took the time to remember them to begin with.

"Come on," Chloe says eagerly and pulls Aubrey by the elbow. "Let's go talk to them."

Aubrey is about to follow her when her phone goes off from somewhere inside her handbag. She stops and looks at Chloe then waves her hand at her. "Go ahead, I'll catch up," she says.

"Okay, but no work calls," Chloe warns her teasingly. She walks off to socialize and Aubrey opens her bag and digs through it for her cell phone.

She finally finds it and pulls it out then briefly glances at the screen.  _Unknown Caller_. She flips the phone open and presses it against her ear. "This is Aubrey Posen," she answers it. For a moment there's silence. Aubrey pulls the phone back and gives it a look then presses it against her ear again. "Hello?" The quiet is broken by Wedding of the Winds playing through the earpiece. Aubrey squints her eyes and presses the phone harder against her ear to make sure she's hearing right. The person on the other end hangs up.

"So, how about that drink?"

Aubrey startles at the sudden voice behind her. She drops her phone and bag as she spins around to face Luke with her hands up near her face. "Oh my god," she sputters, her breath caught in her throat.

Luke quirks a brow in amusement. "I'm not really that scary," he tells her nonchalantly and squats down to gather the stuff that fell out of her bag.

Aubrey lets out a breath and quickly drops to her knees to help gather her things. "Oh, because only charming men creep up behind unsuspecting women like they're some sort of Jack the Ripper," she shoots defensively. She starts grabbing her belongings – chapstick, lipgloss, sunglasses, a Tide To Go pen – and shoves them back into her bag where they belong.

"I take it you're not used to being caught off-guard," Luke replies calmly.

"You shouldn't sneak up on people like that," Aubrey answers and glares at him. "It's unnerving."

Luke adjusts himself so he's kneeling on one knee and picks up her phone. He looks at the background image of Aubrey kissing Chloe's cheek before offering it to her. "Not your girlfriend, yeah?"

Aubrey grabs her phone from him and snaps it shut. "Not your business," she retorts and throws her phone in her bag then climbs to her feet.

"Becky's right about you being high-strung," Luke informs her as he stands up also.

Aubrey scoffs. So Beca  _has_  been talking about her. "Well, you're a douchebag," she snaps back.

"I'll buy you a round of whatever you drink," Luke offers.

Aubrey's next insult sticks to the tip of her tongue. That's not the direction this conversation is supposed to go in. She straightens her posture and looks into the ballroom. "Beca is expecting us to be in there for dinner," she replies.

Luke follows her gaze then looks at her again. "Becky wants you in there for dinner as much as I want to  _be_  in there for dinner," he states. "That'd be not at all."

Aubrey knows he's right about Beca not wanting her in there. She looks at Beca. Beca is sitting at one of the tables with her laptop but her eyes are locked on the back of Chloe's head. Aubrey wants to use the excuse that Chloe may need her, but Chloe is giggling about something with Ashley (or is Jessica the brunette one?) and looks perfectly content on her own. She weighs how much she wants to be where she is as opposed to how much she doesn't want to be in a bar with Luke. She sighs and looks at him. "Just give me one second," she says and digs her phone back out of her bag. She scrolls through her contacts then shoots a text to Chloe that says _'Going to be late. Text me if you need me.'_

Chloe stops talking when her phone goes off. She pulls it out of her bag and looks at it then glances around for Aubrey before replying.  _'Everything okay, Bree?'_

Aubrey smiles warmly at the nickname and texts her back.  _'Yes.'_  She doesn't give an explanation. She just tucks her phone back into her bag then looks back at Luke.

Luke raises an eyebrow at her. "You ready?" he asks.

"Let's go," Aubrey answers. She's going to need a few drinks in her if she comes back and this dinner is still going on. She also needs to forget about that weird phone call before it has the opportunity to drive her crazy. She turns her back to Beca and her stupid dinner and makes her way down the hall with Luke on their way to The Cannery.

xxxxx

Aubrey feels overdressed and out of place at the bar. The locals, like Luke, are dressed in t-shirts and jeans. They're rowdy and touchy-feely and Aubrey gives them disgusted looks as she squeezes past them. She presses up against Luke's back with her hands on his shoulder blade as they make their way to the nearest empty booth. She'd rather be pressed against him than someone who is a  _complete_  stranger. He doesn't seem to mind how close she is, but he doesn't exactly help her stay out of everyone's way either. He really is a douchebag with a too pretty face. She quickly regrets not staying at dinner, but she doesn't want to go back either. She's set on avoiding Beca unless it compromises Chloe's happiness. If not having to deal with Beca means she has to put up with a building full of drunk strangers, so be it. She feels the hatred she has for her as warmth welling up in her lower stomach.

"Can we get two drinks over here?" Luke calls to the bartender. He slides into the booth and Aubrey sits in the seat across from him. "What do you want?" he asks her.

"I'll take a Tequila Sunrise," Aubrey answers and turns to face the bartender as she approaches to take their order. She's a blonde with a gorgeous body, but she reminds Aubrey just a little too much of Beca. She has tattoos and there is a tongue piercing visible when she speaks that is even worse than Beca's ear monstrosities.

"Tequila Sunrise it is," she repeats Aubrey's order back to her then turns to Luke.

"Should've known you'd be one of those cocktail girls," Luke comments.

"Aca-scuse me?" Aubrey asks in offense and folds her hands on the table. "What is that supposed to mean?"

Luke doesn't acknowledge her question. He places an arm on the table and turns to face the bartender. "I'll take a half glass beer, quarter glass whiskey, and quarter glass 7-Up," he orders.

"Okay," the bartender replies slowly and jots that down in a notepad. "Half beer, quarter whiskey, and quarter 7-Up," she repeats.

"You just ordered a cocktail," Aubrey deliberately points out.

Luke laughs is disbelief and slouches back against the seat. "That's not a cocktail," he argues. The bartender arches her eyebrows and looks back and forth between them.

Aubrey is suddenly thankful for all the liquor lessons she's suffered through Chloe rambling about. She honestly never thought they'd come in handy in life. "A cocktail has two or more ingredients in it," she replies as though she's reciting it from a script. "One of them has to be a spirit, and whiskey is a spirit. So  _that_ , is a cocktail." She sits up straighter and doesn't bother to hide the smug look on her face.

The bartender looks at her, clearly impressed. "You're hired," she announces. She glances at Luke. "The girl knows what she's talking about."

Luke tilts his hand to the side and looks back and forth between them. "What are you two?" he asks. "The cocktail police?"

"I'll be back with your drinks," the bartender tells them. She winks at Aubrey then turns and walks away. Aubrey clenches her jaw and is displeased to find Luke casually checking her out as she leaves.

xxxxx

Aubrey finds out right away that she and Luke don't have a lot in common, or a lot to talk about. Luke enjoys talking about himself. The bartender returns with their drinks and Aubrey sips on hers as she pretends to listen to him go on and on about his record label. She could speak up, but her mind wanders to her earlier phone call. That was weird, right? It was the same tune she had heard on the music box, and she tries to determine whether it was just as creaky. Even if it wasn't from the music box specifically, it's still too much of a coincidence that someone had played that tune into her phone for her to just let it go. The alcohol keeps her from getting too worked up over it. But she's still trying to picture who was around her, Chloe, and Maggie that might have overheard them and might have her phone number. Beca was there, but she doubts Beca would really call her phone with some creepy music. Unless she knows that it will drive Aubrey up a wall. She frowns and stares past Luke's head at a fish mounted on the wall.

"Your drink is getting warm," Luke points out.

Aubrey blinks a few times then glances down at it. She hasn't downed as much of it as she thought she did. She tilts the glass up to her lips and takes a lengthy swallow. "I thought we were playing darts," she comments as she places the glass back down on the table and licks the alcohol off her lips. There is a thousand things she'd rather be doing than throwing sharp objects at a wall, but it's better than listening to Luke. He seems up for the game. He finishes his drink then leans forward and looks around for a dartboard. There's one on the wall near the front door.

The bartender must have overheard her suggestion, because she walks over to the table with three darts in her hand. "Just don't hit anyone," she warns them with a grin. "The sheriff is already on our ass about an incident with people throwing knives."

"People throw knives?" Aubrey asks, intrigued. That doesn't sound safe, but it sounds more entertaining than the dull darts she's holding.

"Not anymore," the bartender answers.

"I think you're stalling on losing," Luke tells Aubrey as he gets to his feet. He walks toward the dartboard and leaves Aubrey there at the booth.

The bartender watches him walk away then looks at Aubrey. "Where did you find a charmer like that?" she murmurs out of the corner of her mouth.

Aubrey might have been offended if she actually liked Luke, but she just frowns at the back of his head instead. She tries to think of an answer to give, but nothing comes to mind. "Arch-enemy's boss," she answers simply.

The bartender looks momentarily confused but then just brushes it off. "Well, kick his ass and I'll buy you a round," she replies. Someone hollers from the bar and she rolls her eyes. "Relax, you animals!" she shouts across the room as she walks away.

Aubrey watches her go out of the corner of her eye. She can at least return to dinner and tell Chloe that she made a new friend now. She turns back to Luke with a confident smirk. She doesn't need the extra incentive to kick his ass. It's enough that she's a Posen – and Posens don't lose at anything, not even at mediocre games of darts in dingy bars.

 


	8. Chapter Eight

**Arrhythmia**

* * *

  
_Come up to meet you,_   
_Tell you I'm sorry._   
_You don't know how lovely you are._   
_I had to find you,_   
_Tell you I need you,_   
_Tell you I set you apart._   
_\- Coldplay_   


* * *

"I can do it," Aubrey hisses and pulls away from Luke as he tries to show her how to aim a dart at the board. He puts his hands up and takes a half of a step back. A crowd of locals has gathered around them, and while Aubrey wants to think a simple game of darts usually brings together an audience, she's sure that they just aren't used to seeing someone like  _her_  playing. She tries to ignore the pressure and focus on the colorful dartboard in front of her. She draws back her hand then releases the dart as she snaps it forward again. It misses the bull's-eye by less than a centimeter and lands in the green area beside it. She grimaces at the miss. That's one throw down and two more to go. The locals look impressed. Luke looks bored. He leans against the bar and waits for her to go again. His disinterested gaze only increases her desire to win.

The second dart hits the green circle as well.

"You could always picture the bull's-eye as someone you hate," the bartender suggests. She's watching Aubrey from behind the bar with her arms folded on the counter. "I like to pretend it's the sheriff."

"Hardy har," a man deadpans at the bar. Aubrey glances back. The badge on his jacket confirms his identity. She looks at the bartender, who just smirks. Aubrey realizes this must be a close-knit community for the bartender to have the nerve to say something like that and for the sheriff to take no offense. She turns to face the board again and tries to refocus.

She just needs to think of someone she hates. That's easy enough. She pulls her hand back as the front door opens and releases the dart just as Beca walks inside. It sticks in the wall about three inches away from the board. Aubrey's hand drops limply against her side and she gapes at the dart in a mixture of frustration and defeat.

Beca halts and looks back and forth between Aubrey and the dart with raised eyebrows. "Nice throw," she deadpans. "I hope the wall has insurance."

Aubrey whips around, turning on her heels to face her fully. "What the hell are you doing here, Beca?" she demands.

"Shouldn't you be at dinner instead of trying to bang my boss?" Beca evades the question and points at her.

Aubrey's face flushes and she straightens her posture. It suddenly feels like every single person in the bar is staring at her. Upon glancing around, only  _most_  of them are. She waits for Luke to jump in and save her (not because she needs him to, but because that would be the gentleman thing to do), but he doesn't. Of course, he doesn't. He just stands there. She exhales a short breath and prepares to defend herself. She has nothing to prove to Beca, but she's not going to be part of the gossip mill in a bar that reminds her way too much of Cheers. She'd rather everybody  _not_  know her name. "This isn't an appropriate conversation, and –" She pauses almost immediately. Why the hell are they talking about  _her_? She furrows her brows. "Shouldn't  _you_  be at dinner?"

"It's not your job to dictate where I'm supposed to be anymore, Aubrey," Beca clips with undeniable relief. She shakes her head and walks past her to the bar.

Aubrey turns and watches her then follows. "You're the one who walked in here and called me out," she reminds her. She stops beside the bar and frowns as Beca eyes the bottles of liquor lined up on the wall. She can't resist telling her where she's supposed to be whether it's her job or not. "I was here first. Get out, Beca."

Beca presses her lips together in a tight smile and shares an amused look with the bartender. "I'll take a vodka and tonic," she orders.

"That'll be to go," Aubrey adds in a too-sweet voice. She glares at Beca.

"Yeah, I'm not leaving." Beca picks up the glass as it's slid across the bar to her. She takes a sip. "But you can always go. Don't let the door hit you on the way out."

"I'm on a date," Aubrey replies and shakes her head. She'll be damned if she's the one who has to leave.

"With Luke?" Beca asks incredulously. "He doesn't even like you, Aubrey. He thinks A Cappella girls are lame. He just wants to get your clothes off because his girlfriend left him for a movie producer last week and he's desperate."

Aubrey clenches her teeth together and breathes slowly through her nose. She's not naïve. At least not as naïve as Beca seems to think she is. She didn't step into this bar thinking that a night with Beca's boss was going to lead to some sort of relationship. Honestly, she's a little fuzzy on why she's with Luke to begin with. But she knows it's not because either of them are actually interested in each other. She looks at Beca in silence and hopes that she'll just take her drink and go. There are uncomfortable feelings she can't quite pinpoint swirling around in her chest and the longer she stares at Beca, the worse they become. So what if Luke is using her? It's mutual. She tells herself that the knowledge only makes her a  _little_  more put off by him.

"He's an Indie film producer," Luke cuts in as if that matters.

Aubrey and Beca both turn their heads to look at him. "Stay out of this," they snap in unison. They face each other again and Aubrey does her best not to look bothered. Beca looks neutral about the situation and Aubrey wishes she was as easy to read as Chloe is.

Beca's fingers tighten around her glass. "You know you're only here because of Chloe, right?" she reminds her harshly.

"I'm not an idiot," Aubrey replies. She has to resist the urge to throw Beca's drink in her face when Beca arches her brows like she's not too sure about that. "I know I'm only here because you were gracious enough to invite your ex-girlfriend to your wedding." The corners of Beca's lips twitch and Aubrey knows she managed to hit a nerve. She can't help but appear smug.

Beca takes another swallow of her drink. "After this week, you're out of my life again," she tells her. "That means you're not seeing my boss, because I don't want to see your face when he starts flying you all the way to LA for booty calls. God knows you'll end up at my job to make my life hell." She waves Aubrey off as she turns and makes her way across the bar.

"You can't tell me who I can and can't see." Aubrey follows her. This is suddenly no longer about Luke. She knows they both know it.

Beca places her drink down on the corner of the pool table. "Jesus Christ, Aubrey, go away," she blurts out.

The words sting. Aubrey starts to think that maybe she wants to fix the gap between them, but she doesn't know how. She wouldn't even know where to start aside from with Luke. "I'll play you for him," she makes an offer.

"You'll what?" Beca asks.

"I'll play you for Luke," Aubrey repeats confidently. She raises her voice to make sure she's heard over the bar's deafening music.

Beca looks momentarily taken aback for her brows quirk in amusement. "You want to play darts and the winner gets my boss?" she asks and sounds like she's holding back a laugh.

"Not darts," Aubrey answers and shakes her head. Beca already knows that she can't hit the bull's-eye, and there's a dart in the wall that practically proves she'd lose. "You do know how to play pool, don't you, Beca?"

Beca peers around her at the dart in the wall. "I think I'd fair better in darts," she replies. She picks her drink back up and takes a step forward, but Aubrey steps to the side and cuts her off. Beca presses her lips together in a tight smirk and tilts her head.

"I get to pick the game," Aubrey informs her. Beca's clear hesitancy to play pool almost guarantees her an easy win. She places her bag down then leans over the table and begins gathering the scattered balls into the triangle.

"You proposed the bet, so don't you think it's fair that I get to choose the game?" Beca inquires.

"That's not how I do things," Aubrey reminds her, though she doubts Beca has forgotten who is in charge. She slides the triangle into the middle of the table then removes it and places it off to the side.

"Right," Beca whispers. She puts her glass next to the triangle and replaces it with a cue stick. "Let's get this party started then," she says with false enthusiasm. She steps forward and leans over the table with the cue stick.

Aubrey lets her go first, not that it seems as though she has much of a choice. Before she can say anything, Beca is already hitting the cue ball and makes a legal break. She fails to pocket any of the balls on her first try and Aubrey holds back a sigh of relief. She grabs a stick for herself and walks around the table, locking eyes with her opponent. Beca narrows her eyes in a competitive glare. Aubrey draws in a breath of the bar's smoky air (she's probably going to get lung cancer from being in this place) and leans over the table. She zeros in on a solid ball only a few inches away from a corner pocket. She draws her lower lip in between her teeth in concentration.

"You know you have to actually hit the ball to make it move," Beca interrupts her in the quiet between songs.

Aubrey lifts her head and cranes her neck to look at her. "Shut it, Beca," she snaps. Beca smirks and leans against her stick. Aubrey scowls and refocuses on the seven ball she's aiming for. She slides the stick back and forth between her fingers a few times to the tune of Maroon 5's One More Night as it begins playing before hitting the cue ball and knocking the solid ball into the pocket. She straightens up with complacent grin and looks at Beca.

Beca shifts her cue into one hand. She lifts the other hand and feigns impressed. "Still your shot," she says simply.

Aubrey rounds the table for a better angle to hit the cue ball again. She's only slightly oblivious to the people watching them play. She hits the ball and it knocks into the solid three. It rolls a few inches then stops.

Beca passes her cue stick between hands as she cuffs the sleeves of her plaid shirt. She glances at Aubrey then aims her stick at the cue ball and easily knocks a striped ball into one of the pockets. She rounds the table and hits another one into a pocket before missing a third. "Your shot," she says with a smirk.

Aubrey's gaze snaps up from the table to Beca's face. It takes her all of two seconds to realize she's just been hustled and that darts was just a cover. She wonders if Beca can even throw a dart. Her lips part slightly and her grip on the cue stick becomes so tight that her knuckles turn white. "You bitch," the words slip from her lips before she can stop them. She's not sure she would have stopped them if she had the chance.

Beca's lips twist into a devious grin when she realizes she's been found out. "I hear if you break the stick in half, it's considered an automatic loss," she comments.

Aubrey's not sure if she's telling the truth or not, but her grip on the cue stick loosens almost immediately. She clenches her jaw and presses her tongue hard against her teeth. She walks around her and stops just centimeters away, so close that they're almost touching. "You're going down, Mitchell," she warns her. She steps away and looks at where the balls lay haphazardly on the table for her next shot.

Beca spreads her arms out to the sides. "Bring it on, Posen," she dares her.

The onlookers are silent, and for that Aubrey is glad. They at least know their place, unlike Beca. She takes her shot and knocks a solid ball into one of the pockets while simultaneously bumping one of the striped balls out of the way. It rolls across the table into a position where it won't be an easy shot. Beca doesn't seem bothered. Aubrey misses on her second turn and the two of them are tied already. Despite that they both have five balls left on the table, Aubrey's nerves begin to make her stomach turn. She feels like she's playing for so much more than Beca's boss; but for what, she doesn't know. She steps out of Beca's way and glances at her, trying to figure it out.

Beca pockets another ball with ease.

"So, you seem less than happy to be marrying Jesse," Aubrey comments with feigned worry as Beca aims the cue stick again.

Beca presses the stick flat against the table and turns her head to look at Aubrey. "Excuse me?" she sputters. "This wedding is none of your business."

Aubrey finds that a little funny considering she's in it. "I'm just concerned," she responds in a honeyed tone. She pretends to be focused on her cue stick and absently scratches the top of it with her thumbnail. She glances up at Beca, who is staring at her, then looks at the table to remind her she's holding up the game.

"Well, I don't think I need  _your_  concern, Aubrey," Beca matches her tone, but her voice is more strained. She gives her a tight smile then returns her attention to the game.

Aubrey knows that she's found a weak spot. It may even be the only weak spot that Beca Mitchell even has for all Aubrey knows. She doesn't really know the depth of it, but she doesn't need to in order to exploit it. She twists her hands around the cue stick when Beca isn't looking at her and wishes that she had never stepped into this bar in the first place. She wishes neither of them had stepped into this bar. Her gaze is trained on Beca's back and she momentarily thinks that she might apologize, but the words that slip out are anything but an apology. "I just think it must be hard accepting Chloe is only your maid of honor and Jesse is the person you're marrying." She knows immediately that she shouldn't have brought Chloe into this, but it pays off when Beca misses her shot.

Beca watches the ball ricochet off the wall of the table then end up back in the middle. She takes a step back without saying anything and studies the position of the balls.

The lack of sarcastic response from Beca throws Aubrey off. Beca's facial expression is unreadable, and she doesn't even glance at Aubrey as she uses her teeth to pull a hairtie off her wrist then pulls her hair back away from her face. "I don't have all evening to wait for you to shoot," she tells Aubrey finally. "Someone is going to come looking for me eventually."

She's right. Aubrey is surprised that Chloe hasn't shown up looking for them both yet. She makes another shot that ties her with Beca again. It doesn't surprise her that the game is remaining so close now that she knows Beca can play pool. She aims again.

"I heard you're a law intern," Beca mentions casually. "So, how long until you call your father and ask him to take you back?"

The cue ball flies off the end of the table and smashes someone's glass of liquor. Aubrey spins to face her. "How long until you and Jesse get divorced?" she spits back, absolutely livid that Beca would have the audacity to bring that up – in public, nonetheless. She can taste the bile rising in the back of her throat, but she has finally become better at not vomiting under stress. She'll be damned if Beca screws that up for her. She swallows thickly and glares at her in disgust.

"We're not getting divorced," Beca answers all too calmly. "But let me know when you and Chloe go separate ways."

The bartender approaches them with the cue ball in her hand. "Knock it off," she snaps and throws it back on the table.

Aubrey draws in a breath and spins to face her. She doesn't know how, but she almost forgot they weren't alone. "I am so sor-"

"Save it for the sheriff if you break anything else," the bartender cuts her off. She gives both her and Beca a warning look then walks back to the bar.

"Way to go, Beca," Aubrey accuses her and turns around to face her again.

"You're seriously blaming me for that?" Beca asks in disbelief.

"Take your shot," Aubrey demands. She knows that the reason the bartender is now eying them like she's ready to throw them out is her own fault, but she's not going to bring herself to admit it.

"You really haven't changed at all, have you?" Beca asks.

Aubrey doesn't like that she seems to be getting a kick out of this whole situation. "I said make your move," she insists. Her mouth tastes bitter and she has to take a calming breath. She's tempted to insist that she has changed, but Beca has a way of bringing out the worst in her. She's fully aware that her current actions would just defy her words.

Beca steps up to the table much like all the times she obeyed when Aubrey told the Bellas to put their hands in. She glances at Aubrey then does as she's told. "Shit," she seethes under her breath as she misses the shot. She takes a step back and grabs her glass then takes a long swallow of vodka.

"I'm sure that will help your aim," Aubrey can't refrain from commenting. She can't say she doesn't long for her own drink, which she long since left abandoned on the table she was sharing with Luke. It's probably warm by now and the melted ice has no doubt watered it down. She's tempted to order another, but no bartender in their right mind is going to serve alcohol to someone who is already breaking the objects around them while still sober. Clouding her judgment around Beca probably wouldn't be the best idea anyway. But she does wish she could take some of the edge off her anger, if only because it's making her feel sick. Or maybe that's just the Tequila already in her system.

Aubrey makes another shot that puts her one ahead of Beca. She just needs to make three more and she can go back to dinner with Chloe. Her desire to be with Luke has turned into a desire to be fifty feet away from him at all times. She decides to blame him for this, because she wouldn't be playing billiards with Beca right now if he had never approached her on the ferry. She steps back away from the table when she misses again to make room for Beca to take her next turn.

"I don't know why the hell I agreed to this," Beca mutters. She pockets two balls and puts herself ahead again.

Aubrey shifts her weight in frustration. She's never seen a game move so quickly before. She wouldn't have a problem with the speed if she was winning by a longshot. She inhales and rubs the cue stick between her palms as she studies the three balls she has left on the table. One of them is an easy shot, and she goes for that one first. She pockets the ball with ease then studies her two other options. She could shoot at the one she has a chance with, risk missing, and keep the other ball completely out of range; or she could shoot at the one she doesn't have a chance with, hit it closer to a pocket, and have a better option for her next turn. She glances at Beca and wonders what the risk of her shooting at a ball that isn't her own and ruining Aubrey's next shot is. Her eyes fall back on the table.

It takes a few moments, but Aubrey decides that strategy is more important than paranoia.  _See, I have changed,_  she thinks as she lines up the stick with the out-of-range ball and knocks it closer to one of the pockets. She exhales a breath she didn't realize she was holding and remains where she's standing as Beca walks around the table to shoot. Their eyes meet for a moment and Beca is first to look away. She focuses on her shot while Aubrey just presses her lips together to form a straight line and pretends to be interested in the bar logo printed near the tip of the cue stick. She can't help but wonder if she has managed to screw things up even more than before. She knows she did. She glances up and watches as Beca takes her shot and misses.

"Damn it," Beca hisses and backs up. She glares at the pool table then leans her stick against the wall as she pulls off her plaid shirt, revealing a simple black t-shirt underneath.

Aubrey didn't realize how hot the room was becoming, even in her dress. She wipes at the beads of moisture that have been gathering on her forehead with the back of her hand. The bar makes her feel disgusting. She's going to walk out of there smelling like cheap cigarettes and stale booze while drenched in sweat. It's distracting. She feels suddenly less composed and more like Chloe on a Friday night than she feels like herself. She uncomfortably adjusts the straps of her dress and pulls it up higher in the chest area before she leans over the table and pockets her second to last ball. That just leaves one more. She straightens up and walks around the table, eying the shot from multiple angles.

Beca taps her fingers on the stand that holds the triangle and her drink. She's mouthing the words to the song playing on the radio (Let It Rock by Kevin Rudolf, if Aubrey has learned anything from Chloe's iTunes playlist) and staring at the pool table. Unlike Aubrey, she looks right at home in a place like this. She glances up and gives Aubrey a look that urges her to hurry up and finish her turn.

Aubrey draws in a breath and leans over the table. She just needs to perfectly line up the cue ball, the six ball, and the pocket. She exhales slowly and hits the cue ball. It collides with the ball she's aiming for, but the six misses the pocket and bounces hard off the wall. "Shit," Aubrey blurts out and takes a step back. Her features fall in aggravation. The ball hits two walls then rolls and balances on the edge of one of the corner pockets. Aubrey blinks as she realizes it's still moving then crosses her fingers and nearly starts bouncing on her toes as she tries to urge it into the pocket with her mind. "Yes!" Her mood changes immediately as it falls in the pocket.

"You still have to hit the eight ball in," Beca reminds her in an instant attempt to crush her elation.

Aubrey's gaze flashes to where the eight ball is in relation to the cue ball. It's a straight shot. The corners of her mouth turn upward into a closed-lipped grin and, as much as she wants to practically prance around the table, she straightens her posture and calmly walks to the other side, radiating confidence. She aims at the eight ball and hits the cue ball then steps back. The balls collide and roll across the table and Aubrey can't hold back from grinning wider as the eight rolls into the pocket. It's followed directly by the cue.

"Scratch," Beca announces immediately and folds her arms as she leans against the wall. She gives Aubrey a smug look.

It takes a moment to process the loss. Aubrey opens her mouth to speak then closes it again and looks up at Beca. It's Beca's desire to announce her failure that causes it to sink in. Aubrey purses her lips together and swallows before trying to appear as though it's no big deal. "Double or nothing?' she suggests.

"Are you serious?" Beca pushes herself away from the wall with a grin. "What else do you want? My fiancé?" She props her cue stick up against the table then turns to face her. "You lost, Aubrey." Her next words are harsh, even for her. "Now get out of my life."

Tears are not pricking her eyes. Over Aubrey Posen's dead body will she cry in front of Beca Mitchell – not because of some stupid game of Billiards or because of an insult. "You're the one who invited us here," she snaps thickly, searching for some way to cut Beca down.

"I didn't invite you, Aubrey," Beca retorts. "You and Chloe are like a two-for-one package. You invite one and you get stuck with the other." The emotion behind her smile is unreadable as she continues. "But we've already addressed that before."

Aubrey can't find words for once.

"Hell, I didn't even invite Chloe here," Beca admits. "You think I wanted Chloe of all people to be my maid of honor? This entire thing was Jesse's idea."

The disgust Aubrey feels is almost palpable. "I swear to God, Beca, if you tell her that, I'll-"

"You'll what?" Beca cuts her off.

"If you hurt her again,  _me and Luke_  will be the last thing you have to worry about," Aubrey warns her. She breathes heavily through her nose, not wanting to accept that it had been Jesse to arrange for Chloe to be in the wedding – not when Chloe has been so elated thinking it was Beca. She almost wants to cry  _for_  her.

"Are you threatening me?" Beca asks with a hint of amusement in her tone.

"I'm just saying to be careful what you say," Aubrey elaborates and takes a step closer to her.

"Right." Beca boldly meets her gaze and takes a half of a step forward so they're only inches apart. "Or what?"

Aubrey doesn't know 'or what' at that very moment. What she does know is that their faces are so close that she can smell the vodka on Beca's breath and that if looks could kill, they would both be dead. She has to remind herself to breathe. Her eyes wander to Beca's lips and she nervously shifts her weight from one foot to the other when she realizes that Beca's gaze is locked on her and she can see where she's looking. She smooths down the sides of her dress and stands up as straight as possible. Her hands are quivering with rage and there's a fire in her stomach that demands she shoves Beca against the nearest wall, because it's been too long since they've put their hatred to good use. She can't believe her own thoughts. The look on Beca's face suggests her mind has wandered down the same path and her eyes lock on Aubrey's lips. They both lean in like magnets being drawn to each other. What are they doing? The anger swells then explodes into a sudden burst of panic and Aubrey snaps back before their lips can touch.

"Jesus Christ," Beca murmurs under her breath and lifts her hand to her forehead as reality sinks in for her too only seconds later.

Aubrey throws the cue stick onto the table and grabs her bag then spins around and flees from the bar.

"Shit," Beca hisses. She doesn't move from her spot. "Aubrey, wait!"

But Aubrey doesn't stay to discuss whatever just happened. She doesn't need to. Their passion has never been anything more than intense bursts of ineloquence and anger. She shoves the bar door open and steps outside, in desperate need of oxygen. The air is warm and thick and doesn't help her constricting chest. She has to remind herself that she has long since let go of any fabricated feelings for Beca Mitchell, and that it's Chloe who is the one with problems letting go. She tells herself that until she believes it, and she storms back to the inn with a mantra in her head of:  _I did not just nearly kiss Beca Mitchell._ Because, for crying out loud, Beca is gone and she is marrying someone else.


	9. Chapter Nine

**Arrhythmia**

* * *

  
_Come up to meet you,_   
_Tell you I'm sorry._   
_You don't know how lovely you are._   
_I had to find you,_   
_Tell you I need you,_   
_Tell you I set you apart._   
_\- Coldplay_   


* * *

Aubrey is practically stomping across the asphalt by the time she arrives back at the inn. Her flipflops slap the ground loudly then fly back up and hit her heels with each step. The sun is finally setting and the air is becoming cooler, but this island is now five hundred times more unbearable than it was before she arrived. She marches up the driveway, tears stinging her eyes and her lower lip jutted out in a pout, and starts around toward the back of the building with no intention of returning to dinner. That is until a familiar head of red hair catches her attention and draws her to a halt. She uncrosses her arms and lets them fall to her sides as she backtracks a few steps to watch Chloe sit on the front stairs and poke at cracks in the cement with a twig.

Aubrey turns away and sniffles quietly as she quickly wipes at her cheeks with the palm of her hand then turns back around and reroutes her path to the stairs. Her sinuses feel stuffy and there's a permanent frown etched onto her face, but she's confident enough that it doesn't look like she's been crying to draw attention to her presence. "Chloe," she addresses her in confusion. "What are you doing?"

Chloe's head snaps up and she drops the twig she's holding as she pushes herself to her feet. She bites her lower lip and is momentarily about to brush her hands off on her dress before she looks at them then rubs them together in front of her instead. "I was waiting for you to come back," she answers thickly, her voice just above a whisper. She folds her arms across her chest and kicks at the ground with the toe of her shoe as she focuses on the cement rather than looking up as she answers.

Aubrey stares at her for a moment in bewilderment then looks at the ground, debating whether or not she wants to tell the truth about where she was and what she was doing. She scratches the back of her head and glances back up. It's not that she doesn't want to tell Chloe about Luke, but she definitely doesn't want to talk about Beca. She's afraid if she mentions the former, the latter will find a way to invade. She always does. "My boss called and I-"

"I know you snuck off with Luke, Aubrey," Chloe cuts her off. The irritation in her voice is strong, and Aubrey finds defenses suddenly flying up.

"There's not a rule about who I can and can't spend time with, Chloe," she snaps without missing a beat. Though maybe if they did have rules about that, this night would be better. She doesn't know what she's thinking. She takes an angry step back, ready to retreat back to their room and turn in for the night.

"My problem isn't with who you're spending time with; it's that you're suddenly lying to my face for no reason," Chloe replies in disbelief. Aubrey shuts her mouth. "You left with Luke," Chloe continues, refusing to look at her and talking with her hands, "And then Beca took off, and I overhead Jesse telling Benji it was because of me." Her voice cracks and tears are welling up in her eyes. "And now you're lying to me." She finally looks up. "Did I do something?"

Aubrey realizes Chloe's distress really has nothing to do with her and she pinches the bridge of her nose and silently berates herself for lying. And for leaving in the first place. "You didn't do anything," she assures her and drops her hand back down. She has no idea if Chloe is the reason Beca left dinner or not, but Beca's issues are Beca's issues. "Jesse is a grade-A idiot," she tells her bluntly. There is no point in hiding her distaste for him. She doesn't know what Beca sees in him. She draws in a deep breath and tries to stop thinking about Beca.

Chloe nods slightly but doesn't look comforted by her answer. She clenches her jaw and rubs her hand up and down her arm, looking at the ground again.

Aubrey sighs. She adds Jesse to the list of people she's probably going to chew out before the week is over. She tries to figure out what she's supposed to say to make the situation better, but she's still worked up over the bar and her stomach suddenly feels like it's trying to eat her from the inside out. "Did you at least eat dinner before you left?" she asks. She suddenly hopes they can just grab some dinner and spend time together.

Chloe raises her arms then drops them against her sides. "It was fish," she deadpans dramatically and looks at Aubrey.

Aubrey blinks a few times before the complaint sets in. She immediately purses her lips together to fight back the grin that's suddenly threatening to happen despite the entire evening. She knows she shouldn't be laughing when Chloe is so close to bursting into tears, but Chloe has a way of making the entire day seem a hundred times lighter. She opens her mouth to apologize, but has to shut it again before she can get the words out because she almost brings to light her amusement.

Chloe gapes at her for a moment before she's suddenly trying to hold back her own smile. She's not quite as good at it as Aubrey is. She sniffles and a few tears run down her face. "It's not funny, Aubrey!" she exclaims and tries to sound serious as holds her hands out at her sides for emphasis. "Stop laughing!"

Those are not words that Aubrey hears very often, which only make the situation funnier to her. She dips her head and covers her mouth with her fist. She stares at Chloe, tears stinging her eyes as she tries to hold back from cracking up at the half-smile and forced irritated pout on Chloe's face. Chloe doesn't help when she places her hands on her hip. It feels good to just be around her after both of their evenings were shot to hell and they're both on the verge of tears. She draws in a deep breath to steel her amusement then straightens up and lowers her hand back down to her side. She licks her lips and tries to wipe the smile off her face. "I'm sorry," she manages to get out even though she knows it sounds far less than sincere. "It's not funny." She nearly snorts. "You must be starving." She knows she is.

"Just please tell me you didn't eat with Luke," Chloe practically begs.

Aubrey shakes her head. Just his name is enough to make her amusement fade. "He is so not my type," she replies. She supposes she should have listened when Chloe warned her about that to begin with.

"Good. I hate guys." Chloe pouts and steps down off the stairs. She offers out her hand. "I'm going to buy us dinner and we're going to forget about them."

Aubrey looks at Chloe's hand but doesn't take it. She lifts her chin upward with a smug smirk. "I hear there's a sushi bar in town," she suggests. This earns her a teasing but hard slap on the arm. "Ow, Chloe!" she whines and rubs her arm, though she knows damn well she deserved that. She swings her bag at her without hitting her.

"Well, now you're paying for your own dinner," Chloe informs her and spins around so she's walking backward. "And I get to pick where we go."

"Fine," Aubrey agrees reluctantly and walks after her. How many restaurants could this place have for them to choose from anyway? "But for serious, Chloe, nowhere with a dollar menu." She can't count the number of times she's allowed Chloe to choose where they eat and they've ended up with disgusting, greasy fast food. Her nose involuntarily wrinkles at the thought.

"Nowhere with a dollar menu," Chloe confirms. She reaches forward and grabs Aubrey's hands. "Come on." She squeezes Aubrey's fingers and picks up pace, still walking backward. "We'll be happier eating dinner with each other than with everyone else anyway."

And now there is something Aubrey can agree on.

xxxxx

"Chloe, I thought we were going for dinner." Aubrey stops outside the ice cream parlor and looks up at the giant cone sign. She feels rather weary with exasperation. "I said nowhere like this."

"No, you said nowhere with a dollar menu," Chloe corrects her and pushes the glass door open. "Ice cream costs more than a dollar. It's like at least $2 for a small cone."

Aubrey hates what she has coined 'Chloe-logic'. "I'm not eating a bowl of sugar for dinner, Chloe," she tells her stubbornly. "That is not even close to being healthy." She wishes she could say that she can't believe Chloe wants to eat ice cream for dinner, but she definitely believes it. This is the woman who stops at Burger King just to buy their disgusting excuses for cinnabuns for lunch on Sundays.

"Food is food, Aubrey." Chloe rolls her eyes and makes a sweeping motion with her arm to urge her inside. "Order a banana split. That has to have at least some health benefits."

"A few milligrams of potassium drowned in a gallon of cocoa powder is not really considered a health benefit." Aubrey folds her arms and plants her feet outside the door. What is wrong with going to a regular restaurant and having dinner like normal people? She asked herself that same question the time Chloe took her to Mars 2112 too.

Chloe rolls her eyes and steps to the side so she's holding the door open with her back. "Come on, Bree," she insists and glances in the parlor. "It's been a terrible night, so can we just do something enjoyable?" She's getting really good at getting what she wants, Aubrey decides. Too good. Chloe bites her lower lip and looks up at her again. "Please?"

That face isn't even fair. By now, Aubrey thinks she should be immune to puppy-dog eyes. But, of course, she isn't. She purses her lips together and tightens her arms across her chest. She's starting to feel like a petulant child standing there like that – but if that was the case, shouldn't someone be trying to force her to leave rather than step inside? She throws her arms down to her sides and storms in, ignoring the wide grin that spreads across Chloe's face. "Next time, I'm choosing where we go," she informs her firmly.

"Deal," Chloe agrees immediately. She follows Aubrey in and lets the door shut behind her. "We'll take two banana splits," she orders right off the bat.

Aubrey is about to argue but then stops herself, because, come to think of it, a banana split sounds really good now. She hates when Chloe orders for her though – mostly because she doesn't understand how Chloe always knows what she's going to get.

"Okay," the boy behind the counter answers with more sass than Brian Gallivan. "What flavor ice creams? You get to pick three."

Aubrey glances at him and arches a brow. She doesn't know why she's shocked at his appearance, because judging by his voice, she definitely expected a lanky teenage boy with too much black hair (parted to the side), dressed in a red and white striped uniform that makes him look more like he belongs in the circus than an ice cream shop. "What flavors do you have?" she asks, brushing off his appearance in favor of her hunger.

"There's a sign," the boy answers simply and points to a whiteboard on the wall.

Aubrey gives him and his attitude a look of disdain. "Shouldn't you be able to list them all?" she inquires coolly.

The boy breathes a laugh that matches the sound of his twangy voice. "There is thirty flavors," he replies, irking Aubrey with his improper grammar. "I can't list all thirty of those."

"It's part of your job to know what you serve," Aubrey points out. Chloe is giving her a look that tells her she's being condescending and smacks her side with the back of her hand. Aubrey ignores her. "But then again, you probably don't even know your ass from -"

"Aubrey," Chloe cuts in quickly. She looks at the boy. "What she means to say is that she thinks it's important people know their jobs. It's because she's a law intern and having a sharp memory is necessary."

Aubrey frowns at her. That is not what she meant to say. She meant to say exactly what it is that she said – which is always the case.

Chloe glances up at her and rolls her eyes. "Leave the kid alone, Aubrey," she says, sounding mildly amused, "He's like twelve."

"I'm sixteen," the boy intervenes. "Now are you going to order or what?"

Aubrey scowls at him and looks up at the list of flavors. Now she's going to have to watch him so he doesn't spit in her food or something. She refolds her arms. "Chocolate, peanut butter, and butter pecan," she voices her flavors of choice then glances at Chloe and waits for her to decide.

Chloe rocks back on her heels and stares at the list with wide eyes. She reminds Aubrey of a child being given the option of thirty ice cream flavors. In Chloe's case, even four would probably be too many to decide from. "I don't even know," she expresses her indecision with an odd tone of glee. She's the only person Aubrey knows who can be happy about being indecisive.

Aubrey sighs and looks at the list again. "She'll take cake batter, cotton candy, and mint chocolate chip," she orders for her impatiently. It's probably the most disgusting combination that Aubrey can think of, but Chloe looks like she's about to start drooling. "And we'll both take extra cherries," she adds.

The boy looks back and forth between them. "I'm sure you will," he murmurs and grabs two bowls.

Whatever  _that_  is supposed to mean. Aubrey furrows her brows and shares a confused look with Chloe then they both look forward at the counter again.

The shop is chilly and Aubrey rubs her hand up and down her arm as she absently scans the other desserts that the place has to offer. Chloe walks around behind her and wraps her arms around her, knocking Aubrey's hand out of the way and rubbing her arms for her. Aubrey glances at her but doesn't say anything. She's used to her being touchy-feely, but she's not used to her being clingy. She's a little surprised to find herself more worried by it than annoyed. Chloe tucks her face against Aubrey's shoulder and Aubrey pats her arm as she looks up at the signs again. "Do you want a drink?" she asks.

Chloe looks up at the drink options. She crinkles her nose and shakes her head. "I'm not that thirsty," she replies. Aubrey recognizes that as code for 'I'll probably just drink yours'.

"We'll take a large root beer," Aubrey adds to their order.

"With one straw or two?" the boy asks with a disgusting amount of too much sweetness.

Aubrey sees what he's getting at. She draws in a deep breath and holds her tongue so Chloe doesn't smack her in the side again. "One," she growls out through clenched teeth.

"Okay," the boy responds simply and returns to their order.

Aubrey rolls her eyes and shakes her head. She leans back into the warmth of Chloe's embrace and cranes her neck to look at her. "What is going on with you?" she asks and lowers her voice so only Chloe can hear.

Chloe lifts her head and looks perplexed. "What are you talking about?" she asks. She sounds clueless, but her grip on Aubrey slackens.

Aubrey opens her mouth to elaborate when their orders are dropped onto the counter. She sighs and pulls her credit card out of her bag as she pulls away from Chloe.

"Aubrey, I said I was going to pay," Chloe reminds her. "I was just kidding about you paying for yourself."

"Put all of it on my card," Aubrey states and holds her card out at arm's length. She turns to face Chloe when the boy takes her card. "It's okay, Chloe, I got it," she says and smiles at her.

Chloe returns the smile with a wide grin. "You always take care of me," she points out.

Aubrey feels a blush creeping up through her cheeks. "It's ice cream, Chloe," she eludes. She doesn't know why it bothers her when Chloe points out that her instinct is to look out for her, but it does. She turns around and signs the electronic signature pad with the pen attached to it then hits accept.

"It's more than that," Chloe replies softly. "I just want you to know that I appreciate it."

Aubrey thanks the shop worker (rather reluctantly) as she takes her card back and puts it back in her bag. She picks up her bowl and their soda then turns to face Chloe again. "I think I saw a picnic table outside," she changes the subject completely.

Chloe presses her lips together in a fleeting, almost sad smile that makes Aubrey feel guilty for not wanting to address the topic. Aubrey clenches her jaw and straightens her posture, looking past Chloe rather than at her. "I'm starving," she pushes the conversation in the direction she wants it to go in.

Chloe nods. She lightly bumps Aubrey's arm with her elbow before picking up her bowl. "Let's go outside," she agrees then looks at the boy behind the counter and thanks him for their order.

"You're welcome, Sweetie," he tells her earnestly and Aubrey shoots him a look. He smiles sweet, sarcastic grin back at her.

Aubrey spins on her heel and stalks after Chloe to the door. The locals would have been a lot more pleasant in Hawaii.

xxxxx

"So, do you want to tell me what happened with Luke?" Chloe sits down on the table with one of her feet on the bench and the other leg curled up on the table with her. She adjusts her dress and places her bowl on her lap.

"Chloe, can we please just not talk about it?" Aubrey dismisses it. "Ever?" She places the soda and her bowl on the table then maneuvers herself so she's sitting beside Chloe. She tucks the back of her dress under her then smooths the front down. "Here, take your disgusting fake fruit," she comments as she picks the four cherries off her ice cream and places them in Chloe's bowl.

"They are not disgusting." Chloe picks up one of the cherries and pulls it off the stem with her teeth. "They're aca-amazing," she says while chewing and tosses the stem on the ground.

The corners of Aubrey's lips curl in disgust. She digs her spoon into the mountain of whipped cream on top of her ice cream. "What happened at dinner?" she asks then turns the spoon upside down in her mouth and licks the whipped cream off of it. She's torn between not wanting to think about Beca and wanting to know what had driven her to the bar.

"I don't know," Chloe answers and scrunches her face in confusion. She takes a bite of her ice cream. "Beca just up and left." She shakes her head and lowers her arm, tilting her spoon upward. Some of the excess ice cream runs down the handle without her noticing. "Then Jesse kept looking at Benji and saying something about me so I left." The ice cream reaches her hand and she glances down at it then licks it off her skin and adjusts her spoon the correct way.

Aubrey frowns.

"Maybe we all just need time to adjust to seeing each other again," Chloe reassures herself and pokes at her ice cream. She draws in a breath and nods her head as though she's convinced herself.

Aubrey nods and silently lets the topic slip away. She shifts into a more comfortable position with both of her legs crossed in front of her and her bowl of ice cream holding her dress down against her lap. A warm breeze ruffles her hair and one of the streetlights flickers on. She tries to think about how nice it is to just have free time to spend with Chloe, rather than how isolated she feels from the rest of the wedding party. The Bellas never exactly did like her, and she'd pick ice cream with Chloe over dinner with them, but it still bothers her. She at least expected much less of a happy reunion than Chloe did, so there's no room for disappointment.

"Ooh, try this," Chloe demands.

Aubrey looks up to a spoonful of pink and blue swirled ice cream being shoved in front of her face. She pulls her head back and wrinkles her nose. Cotton Candy ice cream does not sound promising. She shoots Chloe a wary glance but leans forward and closes her lips around the spoon as Chloe carefully pulls it back. "Ew," she murmurs in disapproval. She presses the back of her hand to her mouth as she swallows. "Chloe, that is disgusting."

"It is not," Chloe argues indignantly and licks the rest of the ice cream off the spoon. She reaches forward and pushes the whipped cream away from Aubrey's ice cream with her spoon to see which flavor is which. "You just eat boring ice cream." She digs her spoon into the scoop of chocolate.

Aubrey frowns and hits Chloe's spoon with her own. "I didn't give you permission to eat my boring ice cream," she retorts lightly.

"Sharing is caring," Chloe informs her and steals a giant spoonful of chocolate ice cream then stuffs it into her mouth.

Aubrey spitefully follows her logic and leans over her, taking a spoonful of mint chocolate chip, knowing full well that it's Chloe's favorite. "Sharing is caring," she reminds her tersely as she licks it off the spoon.

Chloe gapes at her. "Well, if that's the case." She places three fingers on Aubrey's wrist to lower her hand away from her mouth then leans forward and presses their lips together for a fraction of a second. She pulls back smirking before Aubrey can even process the kiss. "You taste better than just eating it with a spoon," she comments.

Aubrey swallows thickly, torn between how gross kissing someone while eating is and how Chloe's cold lips felt against her own. She fumbles for something to say then looks down and stabs her spoon through her banana. "Eat your ice cream before it melts," she sputters firmly.

Chloe smirks. "That was my ice cream," she points out and refocuses on her own bowl.

Aubrey growls under her breath when she can't find a comeback. She lowers one of her hands flat on the table and leans back against it, simultaneously trying to keep a chunk of banana from rolling off her spoon as she digs it into the ice cream as well. She sighs and turns her head to glance around as the surrounding woods as she eats.

"This place looks like it could be haunted," Chloe pipes up as she follows Aubrey's gaze. She grabs their drink and swirls it around so the ice clanks against the side of the cup before she takes a sip. She offers it to Aubrey once she's done.

Aubrey glances at it then sits upright again takes it from her. She drinks a few swallows. She places it back on the table and tries to ignore the soda fizz as it makes the back of her throat and her nose tingle. Chloe is right about the island looking like it would be the perfect setting for some cheesy horror movie. The trees cast eerie shadows as they loom over them and the only sound, aside from their voices, is the chirping of a lone cricket. She swallows another mouthful of ice cream and licks the whipped cream off her lips. The heaviness that momentarily lingers in the air brings her back to her earlier phone call and she considers telling Chloe about it. She looks over in her direction and steals a small spoonful of the mint ice cream against as she debates bringing it up. Chloe moves her spoon to give her better access to the bowl.

"It's probably not haunted," Chloe adds to fill the sudden silence. She pauses. "But if it was haunted, Sam Winchester would save us," she jokes and nods confidently.

Aubrey rolls her eyes. She decides to keep the call to herself to avoid bringing up the topic of Beca, since she's sure it had to be from her. But she has to say something. "Has anything weird happened to you since we've been here?" she asks vaguely. She puts her spoon in her mouth again. Thinking about the phone call makes her feel a little uneasy to be outside in the dark. She pulls the spoon back and absently licks some chocolate syrup off the side of her hand as she scans the area.

"Define weird," Chloe replies with a light laugh, not looking up from her bowl. "This whole situation is weird, Aubrey. Us being at Beca's wedding. You eating ice cream for dinner." She lightly nudges Aubrey's arm with her elbow and Aubrey accidentally drops her spoon in her bowl.

Aubrey wrinkles her nose and picks her spoon back up with her thumb and pointer finger. Chocolate syrup drips off of it. Maybe she's just putting too much thought into it.

"Are you okay?" Chloe asks when Aubrey doesn't say anything.

Aubrey looks up from her spoon then down at the table. There's no use stressing Chloe out over something stupid. She nods her head and tries to look nonchalant. She pushes thoughts of her phone and of Beca as far away from her mind as she can get them for now.

"I bet this will make it better." Chloe offers her a spoonful of the cake batter ice cream.

Aubrey looks at the spoon then at Chloe. She has already learned her lesson from the cotton candy ice cream. Chloe grins at her and pushes the spoon slightly closer to her mouth. Aubrey stares at it stubbornly for a moment before groaning in defeat and trying the new flavor. It's as disgusting as ice cream comes, but Chloe's elated smile distracts her from the taste. But even focused on Chloe, she can't help but wish that Beca was there to see proof that things aren't at all how they used to be.


	10. Chapter Ten

 

**Arrhythmia**

* * *

  
_Come up to meet you,_   
_Tell you I'm sorry._   
_You don't know how lovely you are._   
_I had to find you,_   
_Tell you I need you,_   
_Tell you I set you apart._   
_\- Coldplay_

* * *

Aubrey drops onto the couch in their suite's living room with heavy limbs and drooping eyelids. She sighs and twists her damp hair up into a messy bun then leans forward and grabs the remote off the coffee table. It's still too early for bed, but any sugar rush that came with eating ice cream for dinner wore off as soon as she changed into her pajamas – a light blue tank and matching blue and white pinstripe short shorts. She presses the power button on the remote then studies the other buttons for a moment before navigating to the TV Guide. "Chloe, what are you doing?" she calls impatiently as she scrolls through the channels. She doesn't understand how it takes Chloe so long to get ready for bed – especially considering they stepped out of the shower at exactly the same time. She adjusts one of the couch cushions then leans back and crosses her legs in front of her.

There's silence, but Aubrey is used to Chloe's selective hearing by now. "Your favorite movie is on," she adds as she settles on Tangled on On-Demand. She tosses the remote back on the coffee table and glances up as Chloe walks into the living room in a blue, Old Navy 'New York Yankees' t-shirt and pink and white striped underwear. Aubrey looks up at her face. "There's nothing else on." Chloe has to be bored of this movie by now.

"I love this movie," Chloe gushes and glances at the TV before she climbs up onto the couch. She turns and grabs the quilt folded over the back of the couch then works on unfolding it, using both her hands and feet to straighten it out.

Aubrey watches her for a moment then turns her attention to the TV, despite that she's seen Tangled at least five-hundred times already. She sighs and adjusts the cushions again then lies down on her back with her legs stretched out over Chloe's lap. She turns her head in the direction of the TV and reaches her arm out to the side, absently scratching at a dent in the coffee table with her thumbnail. She rubs at the mark she accidentally leaves then looks up at Chloe and waits for her to get situated.

Chloe fixes the blanket and spreads it out over both of them. She shifts onto her side between Aubrey and the back of the couch, propping her head up with her hand. Her other hand rests lightly on Aubrey's chest and she absently traces circles across her collarbone as she settles down and focuses on the TV.

Aubrey's eyes linger on Chloe's face, taking in her sleepy smile and noting the way her eyes light up ever-so-slightly when the movie starts. Chloe must know she's staring at her, but she doesn't look away from the TV. She shifts slightly so one of her legs is half-draped over Aubrey's thigh and continues gliding the tips of her fingers across Aubrey's bare skin. Aubrey hesitates then presses in closer to Chloe for warmth and lulls her head against the cushion, turning to gaze at the television through half-lidded eyes. She lifts a hand and rubs at her face then crosses her arms under the blanket and breathes a quiet sigh. Chloe lowers her head to the space between Aubrey's neck and shoulder and Aubrey tries to readjust herself into a more comfortable position, settling back down again when Chloe wraps an arm around her and switches from drawing circles near her neck to rubbing her thumb soothingly up and down her arm. Her eyelids flutter and she focuses on Chloe's warm breaths against her neck to keep herself awake because she knows she'll have to be the one who drags them to bed when the movie is over.

"You look like Rapunzel," Chloe murmurs, her mouth brushing against Aubrey's neck as she speaks. Aubrey can feel Chloe's lips curling into a smile against her skin. Chloe stops rubbing her arm and reaches up to twist a strand of Aubrey's hair that managed to escape the tie around her finger.

Aubrey stares at Rapunzel then frowns and licks her lips. "Just because I have the same color hair as her doesn't mean I look like her," she argues. The compliment seems too far-fetched. She knows she's not that pretty. Not that she thinks there's anything wrong with how she looks (most of the time); she just doesn't look like  _that_. "You act like Rapunzel," she points out.

Chloe breathes a laugh. "Maybe sometimes," she agrees and stops playing with Aubrey's hair. She rests her hand on Aubrey's shoulder and hugs her close.

"More like all of the time," Aubrey corrects her.

"That's okay." Chloe rolls onto her stomach and props herself up, crossing her arms over Aubrey's chest. She's laying half on top of her, but Aubrey doesn't really mind. It's comfortable. "I like Rapunzel."

Aubrey turns her head. She's not expecting Chloe to be so close to her face and their noses brush against each other. She sighs quietly and looks up into her eyes. She wonders if Chloe is Rapunzel who she is supposed to be. She's no Flynn Rider, that's for sure. No, if anyone was Flynn, it would be Beca. Her gaze falters and she momentarily presses her lips together then breathes out through her mouth and looks off to the side.

Chloe tilts her head to the side, a gentle, yet concerned smile playing on her lips.

Aubrey stares at the TV. The moment Beca stepped into their lives, charming and mysterious like Flynn, Aubrey realized how expendable she was. She wrings her hands together underneath the blanket, pressing her thumbs against her palms. She doesn't match any stereotypical romance story like Chloe and Beca would. She just fills a void in Chloe's life that no one else has stepped up to fill. She knows that one day Chloe will rightfully replace the domesticated life they share with something better. Aubrey gets it. It's obvious whenever Chloe is around Beca that this is all temporary. A dull ache starts in her chest and she forces herself to stop over-thinking.

"Aubrey," Chloe snaps her out of her thoughts in a soft tone.

Aubrey instinctively turns her head to look back up at her. She swallows thickly and silently meets Chloe's eyes again.

Chloe smiles at her and lowers her head so their foreheads are pressed together. "Whatever you're thinking about, don't," she murmurs warmly. "I don't like when you get that sad look in your eyes." The corner of her lips twist upward into a slight smirk. "You can't tell me you're upset about spending a whole week watching movies with me every night."

Aubrey can't help but smile slightly. "Only if you make me watch this movie every night," she replies dryly.

"Only if it's on On-Demand every night," Chloe teases.

Aubrey groans. She's pretty sure that they could both reenact the entire movie by now.

Chloe breathes a quiet giggle. She presses her lips into a wide, closed-lipped smile and stares at Aubrey for a moment before she tilts her head to the side and presses their mouths together in a tender kiss that tastes like cinnamon toothpaste.

It's hard not to melt underneath Chloe sometimes, especially when she kisses her at random and takes her off-guard. Aubrey's eyes fall shut and she sinks down into the couch as her mind temporarily blanks and blocks out her insecurities. The warmth that engulfs her is so pleasant that she can never even be upset by being taken by surprise. Her lips tingle as Chloe pulls back and she resists the urge to lean forward and draw her back into the kiss.

Chloe looks down and silently plays with the sleeve of Aubrey's shirt for a moment. There's still a hint of a smile on her face even though she suddenly turns serious. "Can we talk about this?" she inquires. Her voice is strained as though she's holding back from the hesitance she's feeling.

Aubrey's breath catches in her throat and her mouth goes dry. "There's nothing to talk about, Chloe," she replies with forced confidence in her words. She shifts underneath her and refuses to meet her gaze again. It's been months since Chloe has last tried to engage her in a conversation about them. It's not that Aubrey doesn't want to discuss it and know what exactly their actions mean; it's that her chest constricts and tears suddenly start filling her eyes every time she tries. She knows that Chloe doesn't want to pull away. But Aubrey can't establish a relationship and have it all come crashing down around her. She can't lose Chloe if she doesn't really have her, right? Her stomach feels sick.

"I just want to know what we are, Aubrey," Chloe all but pleads. "You can't honestly tell me you think we're just friends." The desperation in her voice gets worse every time she brings up the subject. Aubrey is disgusted with herself for not being able to address it.

"Let's just talk about it when we get home," she snaps and tries to roll slightly to the side. "We're missing the movie."

Chloe stares at her for a moment then nods her head and looks around, adjusting the blanket even though it's covering both of them just fine. "Okay," she whispers. She rolls off of Aubrey and rests her head against the crook of her neck again, loosely draping an arm over her mid-section. She sniffs quietly then breathes a sigh as she gets comfortable.

Aubrey unfolds her arms and lifts a hand to her forehead as she stares through the TV. She inhales slowly as though that will ease the pressure on her lungs then rubs her hand down over her eyes and presses her fingers and palm against them as she exhales. She sneaks a glance at Chloe and drops her arm so it's hanging over the side of the couch. Chloe briefly looks up at her then shifts her gaze to the TV again. She frowns slightly and snuggles in closer to Aubrey, taking to rubbing her thumb up and down her arm again. Aubrey lifts her hand and interlocks their fingers. The guilt she has for refusing to face their relationship starts to make her want to go to bed, so she tries to focus on quoting the movie in her head in an effort to block it out. Getting up and leaving would just upset them both further.

 

xxxxx

Aubrey doesn't know whether she's awake and watching the movie or asleep and dreaming about it as she listens to the words. It's most likely a mixture between the two. At some point around thirty minutes in, her eyelids became too heavy to keep open and she just gave up and allowed them to flutter on their own accord. She's awake enough to feel Chloe's hand beneath her own and a draft where she kicked the blanket off of one of her feet, but it's all foggy and her entire body feels too heavy to move. She stares at Flynn and Rapunzel climbing into a boat while focusing on her own steady breaths. She's not sure whether Chloe is asleep or not until she moves to sit up and drapes both of her legs over Aubrey's stomach.

"This is my favorite part," Chloe announces, her voice thick and gravelly with sleep.

Aubrey inhales and gets caught in a yawn. She covers her mouth with the back of her hand as she coughs a few times upon exhaling then crosses her arms above her head. She turns her head so her cheek is resting against her arm and looks groggily up at Chloe. They've been awake for so many hours now that she's not sure how Chloe even has the strength to sit up, let alone still be paying actual attention to the movie. She rubs her face with her arm then watches Chloe silently as she stares at the TV while the music to I See The Light starts.

Chloe sits up further and folds one of her legs in front of her, oblivious to how her ankle digs into Aubrey's stomach, even as Aubrey shifts to make the position more comfortable. Chloe leans forward and her eyes light up as she eagerly waits for the lyrics to begin before softly singing along with Rapunzel.

 

_All those days, watching from the windows._   
_All those years, outside looking in._   
_All that time, never even knowing just how blind I've been._   
_Now I'm here, blinking in the starlight._   
_Now I'm here, suddenly I see._   
_Standing here, it's oh so clear,_   
_I'm where I'm meant to be._

Aubrey tries to keep her eyelids from permanently drifting shut as Chloe's voice soothes her further toward sleep. The song is the main reason she tolerates watching the movie repeatedly. They don't sing often enough for her to hear Chloe's voice on a regular basis anymore. She feels a small smile creeping onto her face by its own will as Chloe's voice picks up intensity.

 

_And at last I see the light._   
_And it's like the fog has lifted._   
_And at last I see the light._   
_And it's like the sky is new._   
_And it's warm and real and bright._   
_And the world has somehow shifted._

Chloe smiles rather wearily.

 

_All at once, everything looks different._   
_Now that I see you._

"One day, I'm going to convince you to duet this song with me," Chloe says confidently. She turns around so she's facing Aubrey, half sitting on her stomach.

The exhausted daze Aubrey is in fades slightly when she realizes that Chloe is talking to her. She lifts her eyebrows and wonders how long Chloe will keeping asking her to sing I See The Light with her. Probably until she caves and does it. "I'm not singing a guy's part," she murmurs, her words slightly slurred. "I don't even know the lyrics."

"There's nothing wrong with singing Zachary Levi's part, Aubrey." Chloe rolls her eyes.

Aubrey makes a humming noise in disagreement as she listens Flynn begin singing. She buries her face against her arm and closes her eyes then lifts her other hand and tugs on Chloe's arm, trying to convince her to stop sitting on her and lay back down.

Chloe concedes and snuggles back into the couch on her side. She wraps her arms around Aubrey's arm and hugs it, burying the lower half of her face against Aubrey's shoulder. It muffles her voice as she continues singing the rest of the song, softer and almost in a whisper.

 

_And at last I see the light._   
_And it's like the fog has lifted._   
_And at last I see the light._   
_And it's like the sky is new._   
_And it's warm and real and bright._   
_And the world has somehow shifted._

Aubrey loses her battle with sleep and drifts off further.

 

_All at once, everything is different._   
_Now that I see you._   
_Now that I see you._

xxxxx

It takes about twenty minutes of drifting in and out of sleep for Aubrey to figure out why she keeps dreaming about an obnoxiously loud woman reviewing all the movies she can watch On-Demand. She slowly opens her eyes and stares at the TV for a fraction of a second before she lifts her hand and slams it down harder than she means to on the remote's power button, accidentally knocking it on the floor. The television turns off and leaves the dimly lit room silent aside from the sound of Chloe's light snoring. Aubrey turns her head to find her on her side with her face tucked against the back of the couch, clutching the bundled up blanket (which isn't covering either of them anymore). She stares at her for a moment as she tries to come to terms with being awake then reaches over and lightly shakes her shoulder. "Chloe," she mumbles thickly and sits up.

Chloe hunches her shoulders and rolls onto her stomach, burying her face in the blanket. She curls one of her arms up over her head and entangles her fingers in her hair before her limbs fall limp again and her hand drops back down onto the couch.

Aubrey breathes a heavy sigh and stretches out her legs then turns and swings them over the edge of the couch. "Chloe, we have to go to bed," she insists, louder this time. She rubs her eyes then looks over at Chloe and realizes that her words are having no effect. She's tempted to let her sleep on the couch, but her own back is already aching from that. Her legs are cramped as she forces herself to her feet, but she tries to ignore that and turns around to grip Chloe gently by the arm and maneuver her into a sitting position.

Chloe slowly regains some consciousness and supports most of her own weight once she's not lying down anymore. She scrunches her face then scrubs at her eyes before opening them halfway and glancing around the room. She looks up at Aubrey then leans to the side and snuggles into her, resting her head against her abdomen. She folds her arms and pulls her legs up toward her chest as she stares at the floor. Her lower lip sticks out in a tired pout.

Aubrey looks down at her, not really sure what exactly she's doing or if she's even actually awake. She kicks the remote out of the way so it won't get stepped on then wraps an arm around Chloe's shoulder and hoists her the rest of the way up onto her feet. She keeps one arm wrapped around her and her other hand on her shoulder until she's sure she's not going to fall over or try to curl back up on the couch. She looks dazed but sturdy so Aubrey lets her go and looks at the unfolded blanket and then at the remote. She bends over and picks up the remote first then places it on the coffee table.

Chloe rubs her face and takes a step back out of the way. The back of her legs hit the coffee table and she stumbles, latching onto Aubrey's shoulder to keep her balance.

Aubrey quickly straightens up and grabs Chloe's waist to steady her. She slides her hands up to her shoulders and turns her around, directing her away from the coffee table. She's not going to be able to clean up the living room with Chloe waiting for her, and she just wants to get to bed as quickly as possible. "I'll be right there," she mumbles and sets Chloe on the path to the bedroom. She watches her walk down the hall to make sure she gets there alright then turns and grabs the blanket off the couch. Her hands don't want to cooperate but she folds the blanket as neatly as possible and drapes it over the back of the couch.

The rest of the living room looks okay. Aubrey gives it a brief once over then absently scratches her arm and makes her way into the kitchen to grab a bottle of water to take to bed with her. She shivers as her bare feet pad across the cold, tiled floor. She should have known that it would be cold at night and packed warmer pajamas. She glances up and rests her hand on the handle of the refrigerator door then freezes as she sees a picture of Chloe and Beca from graduation staring back at her. Her lips part and her brow creases. She drops her hand from the handle and peels the taped photo off the door then takes a step back toward the living room so she can see it in the light. She recognizes it as a picture she took of them that only Chloe and Beca have a copy of and her brows furrow. She looks back up at the refrigerator door then down at the picture again.

The shock makes her mind a little less blurry from sleep, but she still can't make sense of what she's holding. Chloe may be a little obsessed with Beca, but not to the point of taping her picture up in random places. She quickly flips the photo over and looks at the back of it. Chloe had written the date on the back of her copy, but this one is blank. She swallows slowly and glances around the kitchen. Maybe Beca is trying to get back at her for the Luke incident. Her hands are shaking and she tries to reason whether or not Beca would go as far as breaking into her room to tape up some stupid picture and make her paranoid. She connects it to the phone call earlier and a lump forms in the back of her throat. She's not sure whether it's from fear or whether she's upset because she thinks Beca is purposely going out of her way to mock her. She knows Chloe wouldn't do something like this. Her eyes start to sting and she roughly tears the picture in half then spins around and opens the cupboard beneath the sink. She chucks the photo in the trash then slams the cupboard door shut.

Her breaths come in short, angry bursts and she spins around so her back is against the counter. The room suddenly has an eerie feel to it and her feet are planted to the floor despite how much she suddenly wants to be beside Chloe. What if it wasn't Beca? Who else could it be? Her head snaps up as she hears footsteps walking down the hallway. Chloe stops in the doorway of the kitchen and the sound of her walking is replaced by the sound of Aubrey's heart thumping in her ears.

"Are you coming to-" Chloe stops talking when she looks up and actually sees Aubrey standing there. "Aubrey, what's wrong?" She suddenly looks more awake and she takes several quick, short steps forward then stops beside the counter. "You look like you've seen a ghost."

Aubrey diverts her gaze to the floor. She twists her hands together in front of her and tries to decide what to say. "I think someone was here," she whispers vehemently. She clenches her jaw and tries to subtly glance around for the light switch.

"What? You mean like in our room?" Chloe asks, alarmed. She takes a step closer to Aubrey and places a hand between her shoulder blades. Aubrey jumps. Chloe glances around the kitchen. "Should I call the front desk?" she whispers.

Aubrey looks up in the direction of the living room and roughly shakes her head. "I think it was Beca," she blurts out. She realizes too late that maybe she should have kept that part to herself.

Chloe blinks a few times and looks around then looks back up at Aubrey. "You think Beca broke into our room?" she asks in a completely perplexed tone. "Aubrey that's," she seems to search for a better word than the one she wants to use, but obviously can't find one, "insane."

It sounds crazy now that Aubrey hears Chloe say it out loud. She presses her hands flat against the cupboard doors then lifts one and runs it over her hair, resting it on top of her head. She opens her mouth and tries to think of words to back up her accusation, but the entire thing seems so unlikely that she's tempted to check the trash to make sure she really just threw out a picture. Tears prick her eyes and she suddenly wishes she was climbing into her own bed. She's starting to feel like she's been awake for days. "Chloe, I want to go home," she demands thickly and pulls away from her to face her. Her stomach rolls and she takes multiple deep breaths to calm it.

"Hey," Chloe whispers soothingly and steps forward in front of her. She grabs Aubrey's wrists and moves both of her hands in front of her then slides her hands down so their palms are pressed together and their fingers are interlocked. "You probably just had a weird dream, Bree," she says calmly and Aubrey knows that she no longer believes that anyone broke in.

"I wasn't dreaming, Chloe!" Aubrey tugs her hands away and shakes her head. Her chin trembles and she quickly clenches her jaw to stop it, but that doesn't keep a few tears from escaping her eyes as exhaustion gets the better of her. She clamps her eyes shut in frustration then opens them again. All she has to do is turn around and check the trashcan for the photograph, but she doesn't know whether she's more afraid that it will be there or that it won't. Because maybe Chloe is right and she was dreaming. It wouldn't be the first time exhaustion has caused her to imagine things. She swallows again and rubs at her face with the back of her hand as her features start to crumple. She already hates the thought of Chloe and Beca without pictures of them being thrown in her face. She draws in a shaky breath and tries to escape to the bedroom, but Chloe catch her by the arm before she can get more than a few steps away.

"You're really tired," Chloe points out and runs her hand lightly up and down her arm. She seems far less bothered than Aubrey thinks she should be. "It's been a long day and I think we're both exhausted and your brain is just imagining weird things."

Aubrey sniffles and stares at the floor. It's becoming impossible to keep her eyes open for longer than a second at a time and Chloe may be right. She wasn't tired when someone played Wedding of the Winds into her phone though. She lifts her hand and rubs at her face again.

Chloe is silent for a moment before she steps into Aubrey's line of sight. "If you still want to go home in the morning, let's go home," she says. "I don't want you to cry, Aubrey."

The words should make Aubrey feel better, but they don't. They don't because she knows that Chloe doesn't want to go home. She stares absently past Chloe and lifts her hands to rub her temples.

"Come on," Chloe tugs her forward and toward the doorway. "Come to bed with me and we'll talk about it in the morning."

Aubrey shoots one last glance at the cupboard in drained confusion as she's pulled along. Her head starts to ache and the past fifteen minutes become an exhausted blur that she can't quite place or make sense of. She chokes back her distress and replaces it with her desire for sleep. She can't tell if she believes Chloe or if she just wants to believe her. But if her mind is so intent on screwing with her, she just wishes it would leave Beca out of it.

 

xxxxx

"I can call the front desk if you want, Aubrey." Chloe pulls down the blankets on her side of the bed.

Aubrey sniffles and shakes her head. She doesn't need the entire hotel thinking she's crazy, or, worse, Beca knowing that she thinks she broke in.

"Are you sure?" Chloe asks.

"Just drop it, Chloe," she whispers and pulls back the blankets on her side halfway. She feels like a paranoid idiot. But she's still tempted to recheck the trashcan for the photo. Instead, she just crawls onto bed and lies down on her back, cringing when something pokes her in the spine. She props herself up with one arm and reaches behind herself to grab whatever she managed to just crush. Her fingers brush something soft and she narrows her eyes in irritation as she holds up Chloe's stuffed bear by the ear. "For serious, Chloe, what is this doing here?" she asks in exasperation.

Chloe freezes halfway into bed with one knee on the mattress and her other foot still on the floor. "I wasn't going to leave him at home all alone," she explains. Her voice is laced with sympathy for the stuffed toy.

Aubrey rubs her free hand down the side of her face. "Well, why is  _it_  on my side of the bed under the covers?" she inquires.

Chloe bites her lower lip and looks down at the bed with a small shrug. "He likes being under the blankets," she murmurs and looks hesitantly up at the bear. "It's like a cave."

Aubrey can't find a retort because Chloe might as well be speaking an entirely different language. She thrusts the bear in her direction, still holding its ear between her thumb and pointer finger. The scraggly black bear is filthy and falling apart from over twenty years of excessive cuddling, and Aubrey doesn't dare touch it elsewhere for fear she might get some kind of germs. She'd toss is in the washing machine, but it'd probably come back out in pieces.

Chloe crawls into bed and gets situated under the blankets, still sitting up, then takes the bear from her and places it on her pillow on the other side of her. She lets out a tired breath then looks back and forth between Aubrey and the bear.

Aubrey eyes them both as she lays back down and pulls the blankets up over her.

"Aubrey," Chloe addresses her and lays a hand on her forehead. "Sam," she addresses the bear and places a hand on its head as well. (Aubrey wonders how many times the bear's name has changed since Chloe first received it.) "If either of you need me, you know you can wake me up, okay?"

"If that thing wakes you up, it's not coming back home with us, Chloe," Aubrey warns her. She tries to look at Chloe's hand but fails. She makes a moue and heaves a frustrated sigh.

Chloe removes her hand from the bear's head and turns to face Aubrey, brushing a few loose strands of hair away from her face. "Then I'll just extend the offer to you," she replies. Aubrey looks away from her, unable to meet her eyes. She adjusts herself back against her pillows, uncomfortable with acknowledging she might need anyone. She reminds herself she's just tired and that her mind is playing tricks on her so she shouldn't bother waking Chloe if something else happens.

Chloe leans down and presses a kiss to her forehead. "I love you," she murmurs then pulls back and situates herself against the bed.

Aubrey looks at her in silence and hopes the look in her eyes returns the gesture. Her throat becomes too constricted to respond to those three words. She presses her lips together and tries to return the soft smile that Chloe gives her then rolls over onto her side so her back is to her. She closes her eyes and forces herself to sleep with her last thought being that maybe one night she'll tell Chloe she loves her back. Or that they'll keep seeing other people and eventually move on. Chloe spoons around her and buries her face between her shoulder blades. They're just friends, after all.


	11. Chapter Eleven

**Arrhythmia**

* * *

  
_Come up to meet you,_   
_Tell you I'm sorry._   
_You don't know how lovely you are._   
_I had to find you,_   
_Tell you I need you,_   
_Tell you I set you apart._   
_\- Coldplay_   


* * *

There is an annoying, dull ache behind Aubrey's eyes that prevents her from enjoying the one pro she thought might be left of this 'vacation': sleeping in for an extra hour. It started to become obnoxiously painful at some point during the middle of the night then refused to fade even after a few aspirin. She spent the entire night tossing and turning, drifting in and out of consciousness until sometime around 7 A.M. when she realized that trying to go back to sleep for the umpteenth time was useless. And after a grand thirty minutes of lying in bed wide-awake, trying not to fall off the bed because Chloe is taking up more room than anyone her size should be capable of, she knows she's going to have to get up and start her day. She doesn't think she can take just lying there any longer, especially since Chloe can't seem to get comfortable and keeps pushing her closer to the edge. She presses the heels of her hands against her eyes hard enough to see stars then drops her arms to her sides and cracks open her eyelids to look up at the off-white ceiling. Thoughts of phone calls and photographs and whether or not she's going to tell Chloe she wants to return home early are maddening mantras in her head that she can't seem to shut off.

She sighs quietly and slowly pushes herself into a sitting position so she's leaning back against her hands then looks around the room. Sunlight streams in through the cracks between the curtains and creates dim lines across the bed and floor. Chloe is sprawled out on her side, diagonally across the mattress, blocking out one of the sun rays with her arm draped over her face. Aubrey turns and reaches behind the bed to adjust the curtain so the light is no longer shining directly on Chloe's face. She fixes the blankets over Chloe's shoulders and smooths down her hair then turns and swings her legs over the edge of the bed, pressing her toes against the cold floor. Her breath catches in a yawn and she rests her elbows on her legs and her head against her hands as she tries to adjust to being awake.

Her head still aches. She presses her fingers against her forehead and her thumbs against her temples for a moment before finally looking up and forcing herself to stand. Goosebumps cover her skin and she rubs her hand up and down her arm as she crosses the room to stand in front of the mirror. She reaches behind her head and wiggles her fingers underneath her hairtie then pulls it out. She slips the tie onto her wrist and shakes her head as her hair falls down over her shoulders. Flyaway strands stick out in multiple directions and she tries to smooth them down then grabs her brush off the dresser and runs it through the loose waves several times. Her eyes drift back to Chloe as she mumbles in her sleep and she puts her brush back down and pulls her hair back up into a ponytail. Chloe rolls onto her stomach on Aubrey's side of the bed and stretches her arm out to the side, knocking 'Sam' on the floor.

Aubrey looks back into the mirror and makes sure her hair is no longer messy then walks back around the bed again. She bends over and picks the bear up by its tag, barely giving it a second glance as she places it beside Chloe again. She stifles another yawn and rubs her nose with the back of her hand as she turns her back to the bed and moves to squat down in front of the dresser. It takes her a fraction of a second to remember which drawers contain which of her clothes. She opens the middle drawer and pulls out a pair of grey running pants and a matching jacket. She grabs a purple short-sleeved shirt to wear as well then places them on top of the dresser as she gets back to her feet. Her back is to the room as she crosses her arms in front of her and strips off her pajama shirt then removes her shorts as well. It feels like she's running on autopilot this morning. She folds her pajamas and places them in the top drawer then grabs a bra from the same drawer and slides it on, taking a moment to adjust the straps before she methodically pulls on the rest of her clothes as well – her shirt followed by her pants followed by her jacket. She adjusts the holes in the sleeves over her thumbs then crosses her arms and shoots once last glance toward Chloe before padding out of the bedroom on her way to the kitchen.

The previous night plagues her and she adamantly blames Beca. She slides one of her hands up her arm and grips her jacket sleeve near her shoulder as she walks into the kitchen and stops in front of the refrigerator, placing her other hand on the handle. Rather than opening it, her hand just lingers and she looks over at the cupboard door. She wraps her fingers around the handle and tilts her head downward, diverting her gaze to the floor. It would be so easy to just walk a few steps across the floor and check the trash. She doesn't know what bothers her more; the prospect of Beca purposely hurting her, fear of last night's exhaustion driving her to the brink of insanity, or not knowing. She licks her lips then presses them together and taps her fingernails against the back of the handle. She drops her hand from the refrigerator door. If the photo is there, she'll at least have a good reason to convince Chloe to go home without feeling like a bitch.

She draws in a deep breath as she turns and crosses the few steps over to the cupboard. It's just a photograph, so she doesn't know why she feels so uneasy. Maybe because even just the thought of Beca entering her room feels like an uncomfortable invasion of her and Chloe's personal space. She pulls open the cupboard door and holds her breath as she tips the trashcan forward to peer inside.

The bag is empty.

The breath she lets out doesn't contain any relief. Her hand falls from the edge of the can and it drops back to its original position. Her nostrils flare as the anger she wishes she could direct at Beca is turned inward and at herself instead. She glances at the refrigerator where she could have sworn she peeled the photo from last night then slams the cupboard door shut a little too forcefully. She may be stressed over her location, but she knows she's not crazy. She tries to reassure herself that a lot of people imagine things when they're as tired as she was the previous night. It doesn't help. She flings open the refrigerator and snatches a bottle of water then slams it shut again and stalks outside, after putting her shoes on at the door, to clear her head.

xxxxx

The island contains a quaint little town full of summer homes that make the place seem deserted now that autumn is swiftly approaching. The majority of the shops have their lights off and 'closed' signs in their empty display windows. Aubrey jogs down the main road, past the far and few between locals who are enjoying the cool morning. She feels better when she's running and doesn't have to think about anything other than keeping a steady pace. The rush of endorphins doesn't hurt either. Her head, despite it still pounding, feels drastically clearer within the first quarter mile. This place isn't so bad when she's alone and away from the wedding party. It's actually rather calming with its scenic, vacant streets. She turns onto another block then slows down to a walk, taking a moment to catch her breath and take a swig from her water bottle. She swallows the cold liquid then wipes at her mouth with the back of her hand, looking down at the bottle as she does so.

"Hey!"

Aubrey snaps her head up at the gruff voice. She glances around in search of its source then turns to face the island's Maritime Museum. A man who she recognizes as the sheriff from the bar is standing in the doorway. She keeps her hand pressed against her mouth as she looks around to see who else he might be addressing then lowers it when she realizes he's talking to her. She quickly caps the water bottle and looks at the sheriff in confusion. She's probably going to have to pay for that glass she broke with the cue ball.

"Get over here." The sheriff motions her to the building with his hand.

Aubrey realizes that she's just standing there like a deer caught in headlights. Her cheeks flush with embarrassment and she silently curses her sudden incompetency. "Yes, Sir," she obeys immediately and straightens her posture as she quickly crosses the road to the museum. "I'm sorry," she apologizes when she stops in front of him. She draws in a deep breath. "Sir, if this is about the bar, I can pay for-"

"Whatever happened at The Cannery can stay at The Cannery," the sheriff cuts her off. "Sheriff Mills," he introduces himself. "You with that wedding party?"

Aubrey's not sure what to make of the situation if it's not about the bar, but she immediately nods her head. "Aubrey Posen," she introduces herself back.

"I'd like to ask you a few questions, Aubrey," Mills states. He steps through the doorway and into the museum.

Aubrey is rooted to her spot. She knows better than to disobey authority, but her knowledge not to follow strange men into empty buildings leads to an internal conflict. She tries to speak, but her words just catch in her throat when she realizes that she doesn't have a good enough excuse to leave other than that she doesn't trust him. It should be a good enough reason to run in the opposite direction, but she doesn't want to start her day off with being slapped in handcuffs. Though she is sure Chloe would get a kick out of bailing her almost-lawyer friend out of jail.

"Do you want to see my badge?" Mills plucks his badge from his shirt and holds it up. His voice has an impatient edge to it that tells Aubrey not to test him.

She forces a tight smile and shakes her head. "No, Sir," she answers and steps forward with false confidence. Something doesn't feel right, but she hopes that she can handle herself.

"Careful for the glass," he warns her and holds out a hand to stop her from walking.

Aubrey looks down and realizes that there are shimmering shards of glass scattered all over the floor by the door. She twists her hands around her water bottle as she steps over them then looks to see where they originated from. There is a glass panel missing from the front door, directly above the doorknob. She glances around the museum, expecting to see a mess from a break-in, but everything seems to be in place.

"I got one of the kids from that group," Mills states.

Aubrey frowns. She is hardly a kid anymore. Although she may be young enough to be his kid. She looks up to see who he is talking to – another man in his mid to late forties, presumably the museum's owner. He strikes Aubrey as the Average Joe, dressed in a plaid shirt and jeans with thick framed glasses and no unique features. She looks back and forth between him and Mills, who is about a head shorter, plumper, and clad in a tan uniform. Average Joe eyes her suspiciously and she boldly meets his gaze. She's not the one who broke in after all.

"What time'd you close up yesterday?" Mills inquires.

Joe looks away from Aubrey. "We're done for the season, but I was here til about four," he answers. He sighs and runs his hand over his greying hair. "Wasn't broken when I left."

Aubrey scans the books on a shelf while listening in on their conversation. The majority of them are about fishing. She glances to the left at a wide array of boating equipment. She doesn't see anything that she can imagine being worth taking.

"Just one item missing?" Mills asks.

"Just the head spade as far as I can tell," Joe answers. "I haven't done a full inventory or anything."

Mills nods in Aubrey's direction and draws her attention back in. "The group of you, you Sorority and Fraternity kids?"

Aubrey blinks and is slightly taken aback by his question. She's used to people judging her and assuming she was in a Sorority, but Mills obviously hasn't gotten an up-close look at anyone in her group aside from herself and Luke. "Most of us are from A Cappella teams, Sir," she corrects him.

"A Ca- _what_?" Mills asks. He pokes his finger in his ear and rubs it around.

"We sing," Aubrey elaborates. She twists the cap around her water bottle. "But-"

"Do you know what a head spade is?" Mills interrupts.

Aubrey clenches her jaw when he rudely cuts her off before she can explain that they've all graduated. She follows Joe's gaze to an empty space on one of the walls where she realizes this so called head spade must have been located. "No, Sir," she answers with a shake of her head and looks at Mills again. She wants to tell him that if he's thinking of accusing anyone in her group of taking it, that no one would, but she doesn't know about the people outside of the Bellas and the Trebles. "Do you think someone from the wedding party stole it?" she questions, more curious than offended.

Mills and Joe share a look that confirms her assumption. Joe steps away from the two of them and pulls a book down from one of the shelves.

"Wait, you don't think  _I_  stole, do you?" Aubrey blurts out the moment the possibility hits her. She points to herself and looks back and forth between them with slightly widened eyes. She knows she was rather 'rowdy' at the bar, but she doesn't think she did anything to warrant a theft accusation – unless Luke left without paying for their drinks. She realizes that if they think she stole their head spade, she needs to stop speaking before they potentially hold something she says against her.

The sheriff looks at her and snorts in amusement. "You're a good egg, Kid," he informs her simply. He follows Joe around a table and leans over the book as Joe begins to flip through the pages.

Aubrey doesn't know what to say, so she settles for a perplexed, "Aca-scuse me?" He had been there to witness her nearly get herself and Beca thrown out of the bar. She should have to work to get back in his good graces.

"I know a good egg when I see one," Mills states. He slaps his large hand down on the book when Joe finds the page he's looking for. He uses his other hand to motion her over to the table.

Aubrey stares at him. She doesn't follow; not when she has done nothing to prove herself. Her brows furrow. "Thank you, Sir," she says slowly and drags out the words, although she doesn't expect an explanation. Whether or not she is a good or rotten egg is not the important matter at hand here. She steps forward and looks at the two men in front of her then looks down at the book. On one page there are words and on the other there is a picture of what she presumes is a head spade. She looks at the words first.

__**HEAD SPADE:** A head spade is an instrument used in whaling. It is the heaviest spade used in the process of cutting up a whale, with the entire length (with pole) measuring approximately 1 meter, or 3.5 feet. It is used to facilitate the chopping of large bones, such as the vertebrae. Due to its shape and size, it could be thrust straight, as well as swung like an axe.  
 **USE IN WHALING:** The head spade is used to break the whale into smaller, easier to manage sections during and following flensing (the skinning process). It is primarily used to facilitate separating a whale's head from its body, by thrusting it through several layers of blubber and muscle until striking the vertebrae.   
_Other prominent whaling instruments include a variety of other spades, the harpoon, the blubber spike, and the gaff._

The picture looks like a metal oar with the flat end containing sharp edges on all three sides. Her lips form an 'o' shape as she stares at it in interest. She's heard of people poaching whales, but it's not exactly the kind of crime she's exposed to in the city. She can't imagine anyone in her group stealing such a thing, unless the Trebles plan to go on a whaling excursion. In that case, she hopes Moby Dick swallows them whole. She looks back up and tries to gauge what the sheriff and museum owner want from her.

"You see this, you give me a call, you understand?" Mills pulls a business card out of his pocket and offers it to her.

Aubrey straightens up and glances at the number on the card. "I will, Sir," she replies almost eagerly and slips the card into her jacket pocket. She proudly lifts her chin. "You can count on me." She looks at Mills again and waits to be dismissed.

Mills turns back to Joe. "Anything else goes missing, give me a shout, okay?" He tips his hat at him then starts back out of the museum.

"Yeah," Joe murmurs and turns back to his inventory.

Aubrey glances at Joe then turns and follows Mills out of the museum. She maneuvers back over the glass then steps back down on the asphalt. "I honestly don't think anyone I know stole the head spade, Sir," she comments when she's out of Joe's hearing range. It's a mixture of sincerely not being able to picture anyone stealing that and loyalty for her group. She may not like the majority of the wedding party, but they do still hold some of her trust and respect in certain areas.

Mills sighs and looks at the museum. "You see anything, you let me know," he just repeats himself. He turns and gives her a light slap on the shoulder, not seeming to notice when her muscles tense and she instinctively leans away from the physical contact. "See ya 'round, Kid."

Aubrey watches him as he simply walks away from her. He crosses the road to his truck and unlocks the door with a key then climbs inside. He shuts his door then leans out the window and addresses her again.

"There's a jogging path 'bout two blocks that way," Mills says and points in the direction his truck is facing. "I sent one of your friends out there earlier. Just don't venture off the path. Got some old huntin' traps out there."

Aubrey can't stop a smile from creeping up on her face. The city is seriously void of jogging paths. "Thank you, Sir," says earnestly.

"Name's Charlie," he replies and pats the door of his truck then turns on the engine.

Aubrey blinks. "Sorry, Sir," she apologizes immediately. It clicks after a fraction of a second that he was probably requesting she not call him 'Sir'. "Charlie," she corrects herself. "Sir" slips out again slowly before she knows what she's saying and she abruptly stops before getting to the 'r'. She straightens her posture to give addressing him one more shot, but he seems to have a habit of cutting people off before they can speak.

"You're a good egg," Charlie says again and shakes his head. He pulls back into his truck and gives her a brief wave before he drives off.

Aubrey lets out a breath and stares at the back of the truck as it gets smaller in the distance then turns down another street. She drops her arms down by her sides and taps her thigh with the water bottle.

The sun is rising higher in the sky as she stands suddenly alone again in the middle of town. The warmth of the rays on her face tears her thoughts away from the head spade and the sheriff, but she makes it her mission to determine whether or not anyone she knows stole the thing. In the meantime, she needs to finish her jog and get back to wake Chloe before breakfast is over. She turns in the direction Mills told her to go in and just hopes that her 'friend' isn't Beca or a Treble.


	12. Chapter Twelve

**Arrhythmia**

* * *

  
_Come up to meet you,_   
_Tell you I'm sorry._   
_You don't know how lovely you are._   
_I had to find you,_   
_Tell you I need you,_   
_Tell you I set you apart._   
_\- Coldplay_   


* * *

_She looked forward to annual Posen camping trips until she turned ten. Before she turned ten, she was 'Mommy's Helper' for the duration of the entire week. And being Mommy's Helper meant that Daddy was away for hours at a time and she wouldn't be under such strict watch. She was just a little girl for once – playing in the creek with her sundress on while she pretended she was going to help Daddy bring home fish for dinner. She caught minnows with her bare hands and then she let them swim away because, at the time, it never really sunk in that Daddy kept and killed the fish he placed on the table. She was what her father referred to as 'ignorant', a term she never really understood until she looked it up in the dictionary one night when she was twelve. It meant 'uneducated' and gave an example of 'ignorant of Quantum Physics'. By the next morning, she was as educated as a twelve year old could be on Quantum Theory, because if there was anything her father hated, it was her incompetency._

_The day Aubrey turned ten years old was the day that James Posen decided she needed to 'man up' like her eight year old brother. At the time, she was confused about his view on the role that women should have. He made her help her mother in the kitchen, grounded her whenever he deemed her behavior unladylike, and never let her play outside with the boys, but he hauled her to the shooting range in his truck a few times every month until she could shoot a target like a pro. He told her once at the age of six that even though she was a young woman, she needed to learn to be independent and to take care of herself. She didn't understand how shooting a gun would teach her anything, but every time she put a hole in that little red target and her father responded with 'good job', her confidence built. His approval was like salve on all the wounds his other words caused, and she began to make hearing those two simple words priority above all else._

_But shooting at targets was easy._

_His firm hands weighed down on her shoulders and kept her grounded as she stared down the barrel of the rifle. She gripped the gun extra tightly so he wouldn't notice her hands shaking. She could taste the bile in the back of her throat. Shooting at a target was easy, but as she pointed a rifle at the living creature in front of her, it was the hardest thing she had done to date. She drew in a deep breath and swallowed thickly as she stared at the deer through blurry vision. She didn't know why that, up until that moment, it never occurred to her what her father did on annual Posen camping trips. She pursed her lips together and focused on the thin strands of tan hair that were going to soon be stained with red as she hovered a delicate finger over the trigger. It felt wrong. She knew that hunting was legal. She knew that it was even sometimes necessary so that the deer didn't become overpopulated and starve in the winter. But the life in front of her was not hers to take._

_"You have this, Aubrey," his gruff voice whispered in her ear. "It's a straight shot." But by then, Aubrey could even hit moving targets with ease._

_She didn't think as she lowered the gun to her side and spun to face her father with a look of pure defiance. Her jaw jutted out and she took a few slow, deep breaths through her nose. She couldn't say the words 'Daddy, I can't', not even to herself. She thought maybe she would have a better chance at a positive outcome if she stood up to him. Maybe he would respect her courage. Maybe he wouldn't be disappointed. She raised her brows at him and almost dared him to force her to shoot the gun._

_James Posen looked taken aback for probably the first time in his entire life. He had never so much as batted a shocked eyelash whenever Aubrey disappointed him, but the moment she stood up to him, he stared at her as though she wasn't his daughter. He overcame his surprise within a fraction of a second and knelt down to her level, looking her square in the eye. Her gaze didn't falter. His hand snapped up to grip her face, his thumb and fingers pressing into her cheeks so her mouth made an 'o' shape. She knew immediately that she had made a mistake as soon as pain shot through her jaw at his firm hold. "Aubrey Posen, if you ever disobey me again, you will not sit for a year," he threatened her in the most disappointed tone she had ever heard him use. Her heart felt like it was falling out of her chest. "Do I make myself clear?"_

_She felt like she was in a panic. Tears clouded her eyes and she immediately looked away from him, using every ounce of self-control that a ten year old could muster up to prevent them from falling. Posens weren't supposed to cry. Crying was weak. She sniffled as she tried to draw in a breath through her mouth and nodded her head._

_He didn't let go of her face and she realized that she had answered the question incorrectly._

_"Yes, Sir," she strained to get out. Her words became slurred syllables as they left her pursed together lips._

_James dropped his hand to his side. "Shoot the god damn deer, Aubrey." He lifted her gun back up and roughly adjusted it in her arms for her, pointing it at the deer. "If you're not here to win, get the hell out of Kuwait."_

_Aubrey didn't know what that meant, but she had a feeling that maybe it involved getting sent back to being her mother's helper. That would have been enough to make her drop the gun and retreat, but she needed her father's 'good job' to ease the ache in her chest that was threatening to engulf her entire being. She drew in a deep breath to steel her emotions and glared at the deer as her finger found the trigger._

_A shot echoed through the air. Aubrey hadn't pulled the trigger. The deer dropped to the ground in front of her as she stood there poised and ready to shoot. Her eyes widened in shock and confusion and she slowly lowered the end of her gun as she turned her head to look at her little brother._

_"Yes!" his shrill voice echoed through the woods and caused a flock of birds to scatter._

_James's hands left Aubrey's gun. He grabbed his son's weapon and placed it carefully on the ground then ruffled the boy's hair. "Good job, Son!" he enthused with more excitement than Aubrey had ever heard when she hit a target. Her head shot up and she looked up at her father with her eyes begging for a chance at redemption. There had to be more deer. James didn't look at her._

_"Thank you, Sir!" her brother replied with a wide grin._

_Aubrey's stomach rolled and she realized she was going to be sick. She placed her weapon on the ground and didn't even so much as receive a glance from James as she took off running into the forest then held her own hair back and vomited once she was out of their hearing range. Her father couldn't know she still hadn't kicked her humiliating habit. It would break him after how she had just failed. She wiped at her mouth with the back of her hand and trudged back to her mother with tears overflowing down her face._

_The 'Posen Law' prevented James from even ever taking her to target practice again._

_Because, 'If at first you don't succeed, pack your bags'._

xxxxx

No one in college ever believed Aubrey when she claimed to like the outdoors. When she and Chloe joined the Outdoors Club during their sophomore year, they thought she had been joking at sign ups. It was probably her designer clothes and the fact that she absently started to brush the dust off of their table. But she and Chloe were devoted members for two years – dedicated to camping, hiking, and the rock climbing wall.

She likes the exercise, the fresh air, and the solitude that come with hiking. Of course she could do without the dirt and the bugs, but the pros outweigh the cons. She just wishes Chloe was awake to enjoy the trail with her like old times.

The entire path is uphill and Aubrey stops a few feet away from the tree line to take a drink from her water bottle. It's almost empty. She sniffs and wipes the sweat from her forehead with her jacket sleeve then leans her arm against a tree. The last time she went hiking was two years ago when she and Chloe visited Ricketts Glen in Pennsylvania while spending a week with Chloe's brother. She had never seen a real waterfall before that trip, and she and Chloe spent hours swimming and climbing on the rocks. She kind of wishes they were there now, as opposed to this crummy island. She considers suggesting they return there for their next vacation. Or not, because she's going to be intent on going to Hawaii until Chloe finally caves and agrees. She downs the last of her water.

A branch cracks in the distance and Aubrey lifts her head and turns toward the noise. She slowly lowers the empty bottle away from her mouth and takes a quiet step backward as a white-tailed deer pokes its head out from behind a patch of foliage. It's a six-point buck, strong and majestic, like something she'd imagine to see in a photograph. She presses her lips together and drops her arm away from the tree. The deer twitches its ear and glances in her direction. She freezes and stares at it. She hasn't seen a deer since she was ten years old. Living in the city, she's been hopeful of never seeing one again. The water she just swallowed rises back up in her throat and her heart pounds loudly in her ears.

The deer steps out into the clearing with its head held high, and everything Aubrey is trying to escape comes rushing back to her. It's like a karmatic reminder that Posens don't run from their problems, followed by a painful revelation that she never did match up to their standards. If she did, she would be bucking it up back with the wedding party rather than quite literally running away. She swallows the sour taste in her mouth and wipes away the beads of moisture that are forming on her upper lip with her sleeve. Her eyes divert to the ground. She's not running, she reminds herself. Aubrey Posen doesn't run away from her problems. She's just trying to get a clearer view. There is nothing wrong with that. Or so she tries to believe, but she knows she's spinning a web of lies to herself. The thought of her father's disappointment cuts like a knife. But she jogs  _every_  morning. She forces herself to look back up at the deer, torn in a mixture of shame and the desire to prove something to someone who hasn't spoken to her in years.

Leaves and branches crackle under the deer's hooves as it takes a step forward, unperturbed by Aubrey's presence. It turns away from her then lowers its head and nibbles on something on the ground.

Aubrey realizes that she can't just stand there staring at her past all day. That's exactly her problem – just standing around, dillydallying and not taking charge of her issues. Or maybe the problem is that she's making mountains out of molehills. She sets her jaw and spins around on her heels, ready to march back to town. She's spending one week with Beca and a few Trebles; it's not exactly some devastating blow to life as she knows it. She's a grown woman acting like she's ten years old again. She rolls her eyes at how pathetic she's being and takes several steps back down the path, swinging her water bottle next to her with an air of disappointment in herself.

She inhales deeply then exhales a heavy sigh, but her breath is cut off by a bass sound that seems to shake the entire forest. Her heart gives one pound then pauses – the sensation so strong that she nearly yelps. Her water bottle flies from her hand and the deer takes off in a frantic run, in the opposite direction of the sound. She bristles and turns on instinct in the direction of the noise, staring forward even as it's turned down to a (just barely) tolerable level. It suddenly doesn't take rocket science to figure out which of her so-called 'friends' Mills sent this way earlier. She barely needs to give it a second thought as she storms forward, snatching her water bottle up on the way, and stomps through the trees out into the open area of the cliffs. Just several feet in front of her is a deadly drop off the rocks, and, sure enough, Beca and her laptop are perched on the edge.

"What the hell are you doing, Beca?" Pent-up irritation leaks from her voice. She can't even take a walk to clear her head of Beca without the woman invading her space. She sets her jaw and stares at her through narrowed eyes.

Beca jumps and her hand knocks a CD case over the edge of the steep drop. "Fuck," she hisses through clenched teeth and leans over the edge to watch it fall then turns to face Aubrey. "You're paying for that." Her tone is even sharper than Aubrey's. It sounds almost lethal.

If Aubrey's face wasn't so set in a scowl, she might laugh. Over her dead body is she going to pay for a disc full of Beca's mad lib beats. "What do you think you're doing?" she repeats. It's less about whatever Beca is doing on the cliffs and more about the photograph that apparently never existed. It had to. She held it in her hands, for crying out loud! And the longer she stares at Beca, the more convinced she is that it was real. And the angrier she becomes over it. So much for letting it go. The plastic bottle makes a crackling noise as her grip on it tightens. She didn't travel all the way to Seattle for Beca to make a paranoid fool out of her.

"Are you serious?" Beca asks incredulously and lifts her brows.

"Dixie Chicks serious," Aubrey bites out. Why do all of their arguments feel the same? She draws in a deep breath through her nose then lets it out again.

Beca places a hand on top of her laptop screen and moves it further away from the edge of the cliff like she's afraid Aubrey is going to be the cause of that being thrown off the edge as well. It's tempting.

"Why were you in my room, Beca?" Aubrey doesn't beat around the bush. They had enough time for pointless banter and inane arguments back at Barden.

" _I_  was in  _your_  room?" Beca doesn't sound nearly as amused by the accusation as she looks. "Jesus. What are you trying to do, Aubrey? What do you think putting a photograph of me and Chloe on Jesse's pillow then trying to twist it on me is even going to accomplish?"

There is no way that Beca is going to pin this on her. Aubrey glares at her, absolutely livid. "You had your chance with her, Beca." Her voice tremors with rage as she speaks. "You blew it. You don't get to make us miserable over your mistake." She doesn't know if Beca considers letting Chloe go a mistake, but if she doesn't, she sure as hell should.

"Of course you're still going to blame that on me!" Beca's nostrils flare and she presses her lips together to form a tight, straight line. The corners of her mouth twitch with anger and suppressed words that Aubrey really wishes she'd have the nerve to say out loud. "Just stay away from me, Aubrey." She says it as though it's supposed to be a simple task, and Aubrey has to resist the urge to knock  _her_  off the cliff to accomplish it.

"How am I supposed to stay away from you if you won't stay away from me?" Aubrey snaps thickly.

"You're the one who approached me just now," Beca reminds her. She grabs her headphones and plugs them into her laptop then shoots one last irritated look at Aubrey before placing them on her head. She jams her finger against the volume button on her keyboard, probably to rub it in to Aubrey that she can no longer hear what she has to say, then turns and lays down on her back about two feet away from the edge of the cliff.

Aubrey doesn't even bother trying to yell over her music. She scowls and tosses her water bottle in Beca's direction out of frustration. It hits the ground then rolls into Beca's side. It sinks in how immature the move was a fraction of a second later and she waits for Beca to throw it back at her and lessen her embarrassment.

Beca doesn't look at it. She picks it up and chucks it off the edge of the cliff then closes her eyes.

Aubrey folds her arms. She's not going to tolerate Beca just not acknowledging her. What is she, like five years old or something, giving Aubrey the silent treatment? The lack of attention being paid to Aubrey's obvious desire to take care of the problem (which is Beca herself) leads to her clenching her teeth so tightly that her jaw begins to ache.

Beca opens one eye slightly and glances at Aubrey. "Oh my god," she says slightly louder than a murmur. She breathes a laugh through her nose as she closes her eyes again. The annoyance clearly written across her face doesn't fade, but it's joined by a smirk and a few silent chuckles. She's amused by Aubrey's reaction. She folds her arms across her stomach and bends her legs at the knees then sighs quietly. She appears relaxed for a few seconds before she laughs again.

_Bitch_. Aubrey groans loudly and turns around, stalking back the way she came. She curses being a Posen, because she'd give anything to give up on this whole wedding (and Beca in general) and go home.


	13. Chapter Thirteen

 

**Arrhythmia**

* * *

  
_Come up to meet you,_   
_Tell you I'm sorry._   
_You don't know how lovely you are._   
_I had to find you,_   
_Tell you I need you,_   
_Tell you I set you apart._   
_\- Coldplay_

* * *

_You had one warning, Aubrey. Stay on the path._

_Your father always said, 'It doesn't mean a damn thing to respect authority if you don't pay attention to it as well. One day, you may be in a position of authority and you're not going to give a rat's ass if people respect you if they're not following your orders to a T.'_

_Screw up._

She doesn't know exactly how or when she managed to slip off the trail in her rather shameful (but also well-warranted, mind you) bout of anger, but, at some point, the dirt floor turned into fallen leaves and pine needles. The air is thick and smells of moss and rotting wood, and she thinks that maybe if she can just get a whiff of the briny ocean that she'll be able to find her way to a clearing. The island is not that big, and she figures that if worse comes to worse, she'll just end up back at the cliffs with Beca again. (She considers that maybe she would actually rather be lost for the entire day than have to deal with that.) But she has walked past the same bush five times. Or maybe she hasn't. She glares at the familiar stump of waxy leaves. Everything around her looks exactly the same. She can't really comprehend how she managed to get herself lost, but this island is bringing out the worst in her, and she can physically feel her frustration with herself just churning inside of her. Can nothing this week just go  _right_? She has to be able to do  _something_  correctly. Her head hurts worse from all the thoughts that won't stop repeating.

The air is gradually getting warmer to a point where her t-shirt is beginning to stick to her skin. She stops for a moment to take off her jacket and to try to regain her bearings. If she can figure out the direction she took to get to where she is now, she can trace her steps back. The distinct sound of her jacket zipper being undone is out of place against the chirping birds and buzzing insects. She doesn't know why (and doesn't bother to put pointless thought into it), but she feels less claustrophobic and not as trapped with her stupid mistakes as she removes the article of clothing and ties it around her waist. The cool breeze against her bare arms is a welcome relief from the stuffy heat she was feeling moments ago. She draws in a confident, deep breath and turns to face the direction she was walking in. If she can find her way out of the woods in a collected manner, that will (at least slightly) make up for her reckless start to the morning. She wants to believe that incompetency can always be fixed. Or at least be atoned for with effort.

Dried up pine needles and twigs crackle underneath the soles of her sneakers as she tries to track her way back to the path. Her father once taught her how to track game, but he never told her what to do if she became lost. He always stressed not getting lost in the first place. And if she had been thinking rationally, also something he always stressed, she  _wouldn't_  have gotten lost. She keeps telling herself that she still has time to fix everything that has happened so far this week. It's only day one out of seven. At the same time, she can't help but think that she doesn't even want to know what other dilemmas she's going to get herself into during the next six days if this is already where she is after  _one_. But she's not going to make this week worse. She's going to make her father proud (and, just as important, she's going to make Chloe proud) by proving she can get through this wedding without ruining it for everyone else. She starts by heeding the sheriff's other warning and keeping a look out for hunting traps.

xxxxx

She should have asked for a map. That would have been the intelligent thing to do. The sheriff probably even had one sitting around in his truck or could have directed her to the local convenience store where she could buy one. But most people don't need a map for a straight trail. She must have merged off onto a deer path, because that's the only explanation she can think of for how she managed to make a turn. They should really have those orange ribbons tied to their trees so no one else makes the same mistake. Maybe she'll approach the mayor about that whenever she gets back to town.  _If_  she ever gets back to town. She's convinced that even though she hasn't made any turns in a while that she's just wandering in circles. There is a bush with waxy leaves beside her again.

Aubrey sighs and stops in front of the bush. She lifts a hand and presses her palm against her damp forehead as she looks around. A twinge of nervousness temporarily overpowers her determination. It's quickly followed by a blow of defeat. She lowers her hand and reaches behind her then pulls the card that the sheriff gave her out of her pocket. She can't call Chloe for help. Chloe would just get herself lost trying to find her. And she sure as hell isn't going to call Beca. She could try calling Amy, but she can't imagine a positive outcome from that either. She stares at Charlie's phone number on the card. He called her a 'good egg'. What is he going to think if she calls him explaining that she couldn't even follow his instructions to stay on the path? She pulls out her phone and just stares at it, debating whether or not she really  _needs_  to ask for directions.

Her ringtone goes off before she has enough time to come to a definite conclusion. She takes it as a sign that she doesn't need help and presses the phone to her ear without looking at the number. "This is Aub-"

Static nearly deafens her. Aubrey pulls the phone back and glares at it in disgust. The screen reads  _Unknown Caller_  again. She's about to snap it shut when Wedding of the Winds begins to float softly among the trees. It doesn't come from her phone's earpiece. She shuts her phone and lifts her head, looking to the left. She can't tell how far away the music is. "This isn't funny, Beca!" she snaps loudly and takes a step back. She takes into account what Beca said about someone leaving a picture of her and Chloe in her room as well, but she can't help but feel like this is just Beca tormenting her. The music increases in volume and apprehension makes Aubrey's stomach turn. "For serious!  _Stop_!" The music comes from her right as well. She swallows and takes another step. "You're going to regret this, Beca!"

This is about the time Beca should step out from behind the trees and laugh about how Aubrey should have seen the look on her own face or something. She briefly considers that it may be the Trebles tormenting her because they're still bitter about their loss at the ICCAs, but even they would eventually show themselves to laugh at her and mock her. Nothing around her moves. The sound of her too-loud breathing and thumping heart blend in with the song.

Then the music stops.

Aubrey slowly slips her phone and Charlie's card into her pocket and glances around. She swallows despite that her throat feels like it's constricting and turns to try to relocate the path again – which she is more eager to get to than ever now. She's about to move forward when a branch cracks somewhere behind her. She parts her lips to breathe easier and slowly turns her head, but no one is visible.  _Okay, Beca, I'm scared. You can stop now._ She doesn't say the words out loud. She's not sure she could make her voice work if she tried. She's tempted to turn back around, straighten her posture, and face whoever is doing this to her with the courage that every Posen should display. She can picture herself doing it. She sees the motions she should be making clearly in her head. But the moment another branch cracks, Aubrey goes against everything. She does what her gut instinct suddenly tells her to do and she bolts.

 

xxxxx

Aubrey should have known that the self-loathing for running would be worse than the fear of not running, but she doesn't stop. The trees pass by her as nothing more than green and brown blurs and she tries to avoid their roots – nearly tripping on more than one occasion. Something doesn't feel right. If there is one positive trait she picked up from her father (and there are multiple positive traits, actually), it's his ability to judge a situation. (It's usually her reaction to that judgment that needs a little work.) She can't pinpoint exactly what it is, but something about being at this wedding unnerves her – something beyond assholes with creepy music making her paranoid. She bursts out onto the path and trips over something hard in a pile of leaves that sends her crashing to the ground. She immediately stretches her hands out in front of her to break her fall and pain shoots up through her elbows as she hits the damp foliage.

Being out of the woods is like climbing out of a cramped, locked box. She can  _breathe_  when she's out in the open. She sucks in the metallic-scented air then immediately chokes it back out and lifts her head. The stench makes her a kind of nauseated that isn't just from anxiety. She swallows the bile that rises up in her throat and looks up and down the path, trying to determine how far she is from the town. She doesn't know, but she's distracted from that thought when she realizes that the entire path is covered in leaves. It looks like a windstorm hit, and it explains how she managed to veer off the trail. She slowly pushes herself up onto her knees and takes a few slow but shallow breaths. She would have felt the kind of wind it would have taken to blow all of these leaves onto the path like this. She furrows her brows and looks down at her wet hands.

Her skin is smeared with crimson.

Aubrey suddenly feels numb. She breathes out and turns her head to look at what she tripped over. It's mostly covered in leaves, but the sunlight that's shining down through the spaces between the trees reflects off of it. She glances around then slowly moves the leaves to uncover a metal hunting trap. Stuck between its sharp teeth is the foot of a deer, cut clean off. The bitter taste of vomit becomes more prominent and she presses her arm to her mouth, holding it back. Still, despite the gruesome sight in front of her, it's better than what she imagines the blood  _could_  have come from. Her eyes follow the trail of red that leads off somewhere back into the woods.

"Hey!" Jesse's voice cuts through the silence, laced with concern. "Are you okay?"

Aubrey looks up to see him jogging over to her. She lowers her arm away from her mouth and glares up at him as he reaches down a hand to help her up. "Don't touch me," she warns him and moves away. She can get up herself. She doesn't need the help of Beca's fiancé to do so. She scowls and slowly pushes herself to her feet.

"I saw you walking over there," he nods in the direction of the path, "and you fell." He looks down at the trap and grimaces. "The sheriff here mentioned those."

Aubrey frowns and looks in the direction he said she came from. "I came from that way," she corrects him and looks in the direction of the woods. And she thought  _she_ had problems with directions.

"You were just over there." Jesse points in the other direction and gives her a perplexed look that appears annoyingly caring.

Aubrey scoffs and thrusts an arm in the direction of the woods. Is he dense? "I came from…" She stops abruptly because she doesn't want to be standing there talking to him. "I'm not arguing with you," she announces with a hint of disdain. Now that she's on the path, there is no reason that she has to remain stuck in these woods. She shakes her head and looks in disgust at the blood on her hands as she walks away from him, back toward town.

"I was looking for my uncle and Beca," Jesse calls after her. "Have you seen them?" He tacks on, "Are you sure you're okay? You took a pretty bad spill."

Aubrey almost wants to call out Beca's whereabouts just because she knows it will piss her off if she's trying to avoid Jesse by being out near the cliffs. But, at this point, she wants to stop thinking about Beca altogether. As for Jesse's uncle, she doesn't even care where he is. She cranes her neck to look at him. "I'm not Beca's keeper," she snaps and walks away. She can feel him staring at her back and she leaves.

"Aubrey..."

She blocks out the rest.

She knows which damn direction she came from.


	14. Chapter Fourteen

**Arrhythmia**

* * *

  
_Come up to meet you,_   
_Tell you I'm sorry._   
_You don't know how lovely you are._   
_I had to find you,_   
_Tell you I need you,_   
_Tell you I set you apart._   
_\- Coldplay_   


* * *

Aubrey manages to open the door to her hotel room with her elbows then she kicks it shut with her heel. The blood on the room key can be washed off when she cleans her hands, but she doesn't feel like going back to wash it off the door handle if she doesn't have to. She's sick of seeing the blood, and, worse, of smelling it. She has a strong stomach and she doesn't mind blood, but it's different when she can feel the sticky liquid dripping down her wrists as she holds her arms upright in front of her. Most of it has dried already and the rust-colored flakes turn her stomach just as much as the areas that are still moist. She breathes deeply and tells herself that she is  _not_  going to throw up. She'll feel better after she has cleaned herself up. At least even if she  _does_  throw up, it will be mostly out of disgust as opposed to from stress. That makes her feel a little better already.

The suite is completely silent. She walks swiftly across the living room then down the hall, pausing only once to peer into the bedroom. Chloe is still fast asleep – resting on her stomach with her arms wrapped around a pillow. For the first time ever, Aubrey is relieved that Chloe could sleep until one in the afternoon if she let her. She's not really in the mood to play Twenty Questions about why she's wandering into their room covered in blood. At least not before she's had the chance to wash it off anyway. She slips into the bathroom, tosses the room key into the sink (it's too big to slip down the drain), uses her elbows again to shut the door, then flips the light switch with her upper arm - despite that the room is already light enough. The extra light diminishes some shadows and makes her feel less jumpy. She's annoyed with herself for feeling anxious in the first place.

She lets out a breath and moves on autopilot – turning on the water and adjusting it to the right temperature. She wonders if the injured deer roaming around the forest is the same one she saw right before she ran into Beca. She can picture it in her head, limping around out there, slowly bleeding out.  _Stop thinking, Aubrey._  The color drains out of her face, but her expression remains neutral. She breathes through her mouth and tries to stay calm. The water runs clears from the faucet then turns pink after it hits the room key and flows down the drain. She looks away from it and up at the mirror. Her reflection is not the first thing she sees.

_CRAZY_

The smeared, red letters cause her to jump back away from the sink and nearly trip over her own feet. Her back hits the wall. She doesn't quite comprehend the word at first; she just sees that it's there and knows that it shouldn't be. She purses her lips and draws her brows together in the time it takes for each letter to sink in. It feels like she assesses the bloody word and the meaning behind it in slow motion, but, in reality, it takes less than a second. Her nostrils flare and tears burn her eyes. She knows immediately that Beca would never go this far. She would never go out of her way to take such blows at Aubrey – especially not where Chloe could potentially stumble across them. Plus, Beca was at the cliffs, not here at the inn. It has to be a Treble. Bumper, perhaps? She doesn't know any of them well enough to determine suspects. Maybe she should call the sheriff. But then she would have to tell Chloe why he's there. She reasons quickly that the word is not a threat and it's nothing that she needs to shed light on. It's just a cruel prank.

Still, she thinks in terms of evidence for a moment. The letters appear to have been written with someone's finger, so there are bound to be prints all over them. If she  _did_  call the sheriff, it may not be that difficult to figure out who in the wedding party is the culprit. The moment she realizes how mortifying it would be for Chloe and the sheriff to see this (no one else thinks she is a 'good egg', after all), none of that matters. She marches forward and cups her hands under the water then wipes them across the mirror. The blood from the words and from her hands smears across the glass. She gathers more water and repeats the process. The liquid runs in pink streams down the mirror and down the wall. She keeps washing it away until there is water covering both the sink and the floor – but it's all clear. In bursts of tearful rage, she throws water at the glass and wipes her hands across it several more times than necessary. There is no sense of satisfaction even after it's clean.

She's regretful once the word is gone. Her arms fall limply to her sides as she stares at her face - looking straight through herself. What if it wasn't just some stupid joke? She destroyed the evidence. She's embarrassed. Chloe could have seen that. Was the blood from the same source as the blood on her hands? It had to be from the deer. It was from the deer, right? The deer is just limping around out there, helpless and dying. Her head _really_  hurts. It won't shut off. She can't stop thinking. She feels disconnected. There is still blood on her hands. She wants to stop thinking. Should she fear for her safety? Should she fear for  _Chloe's_  safety? Bile rises in her throat. She swallows it down.  _Relax. It's just the Trebles being immature dicks._

Aubrey sniffles and wipes her face with the back of her arm then hits the hot water handle with her palm. She shoves her hands under the stream of water then pulls them back out and pumps five squirts of hand soap onto her palm. The water begins to billow steam and it scalds her skin as she moves her hands back under it. She rubs her hands together and scrubs away the blood with her nails. The soap washes away so she adds more. She doesn't really think past the thoughts racing through her head to acknowledge her actions – just dully realizes that she needs to remove the blood from underneath her fingernails as well. She watches the water run clear into the drain and keeps scrubbing to remove the feeling of shame brought on by the word scrawled on the mirror.  _It's not true_. Her fingernails play the role of Brillo Pads against her hands and lower arms. She frantically presses harder because she can't feel them. Tears blur her vision and she swallows thickly to choke them back. She is not  _crazy_. Her shoulders tense and her eyes narrow and take on a hard glint as her hands turn red but she still doesn't feel okay.  _Immature dicks._

The bathroom door suddenly opens and Aubrey yanks her hands out from under the water. She spins to face a groggy-looking Chloe and folds her arms, hiding her hands underneath her armpits. Her heart is pounding from the possibility of Chloe seeing what she was doing. "What the hell, Chloe?" she snaps and frowns at her. God, she wishes that woman had some concept of privacy. She stands straight up, hoping that in her half-asleep daze Chloe doesn't realize anything is wrong.

Chloe looks up from rubbing her eyes and squints in the light. "Sorry," she expresses earnestly and bites her lip.

"Don't you knock?" Aubrey already knows the answer to that though. She can probably count the amount of times she's seen Chloe actually knock on a door as opposed to just bursting into a room on one hand. "For serious, Chloe, knock next time."

Chloe frowns at her. "I thought the door would be locked if you were in here," she defends herself. "It's not like you were going to the bathroom. You're just…" She pauses and looks around, her eyes landing on the running water. She wrinkles her nose. "You're just burning a hole through the sink."

Aubrey snaps her head in the direction of the sink. The steam is starting to fill the entire bathroom. She unfolds her arms and quickly turns the water off. "Get out," she demands and motions toward the door.

Chloe scoffs at her. "I have to go to the bathroom, Grumpy." She scrunches her face as she walks around Aubrey. "You get out."

Aubrey scowls at her. Her cheeks flush a deep shade of crimson and burn worse than her hands as Chloe pushes her underwear down. "Chloe!" she exclaims and spins around so her back is to her.

" _What?_ " Chloe matches her tone. "I really have to go and you don't appear to be leaving." She pauses. "What were you doing in here anyway? There's water everywhere."

Aubrey pinches the bridge of her nose. She should be used to this – considering Chloe refuses to close the bathroom door whenever she has to go at home. "What are  _you_  doing in here?" she evades the question.

"Peeing, Aubrey," Chloe answers blunty. She's starting to sound whiny now. Typical morning-Chloe.

Aubrey groans under her breath and rubs one of her hands down her face. Her arms feel stiff from tripping over the trap and it hurts to move them. "Stop being infuriating," she bites then tries to quell her anger.

The toilet flushes and Chloe steps up beside her and turns on the sink. She tries to pump soap out of the bottle. It's empty. She tosses it in the trash. "I just woke up," she pouts as if that's her excuse and rinses her hands off under the water. She turns off the faucet then dries her hands on a towel. She sniffs quietly then turns and wraps her arms around Aubrey's waist from the side. She rests her head against her shoulder for a moment before looking up at her. "How was running this morning?"

Aubrey flinches away from her at just the mention of it and Chloe drops her hands back down to her sides. She regrets it after she does it, only because she knows that it's going to lead to Chloe questioning her. She clenches her jaw and shakes her head, stepping out of the bathroom with Chloe following slowly behind her. Her lungs feel slightly less constricted in the hallway. She looks down at her hands and finds herself checking then double checking them to make sure there is no blood left. She looks them over for a third time then looks up at Chloe – who is staring at her like she's just trying to figure out how to address whatever the situation is. She clenches her teeth and doesn't know what to say to her.

"You know you can talk to me, Aubrey." Chloe's voice is soft. It's hesitant, but still manages to maintain a soothing tone. "I can tell whatever you're upset over is more than just Beca and the wedding. Is it about last night?"

Aubrey diverts her gaze to the floor. Her jaw is starting to hurt from how tightly she's pressing her teeth together. She lifts her hands and checks under her fingernails to make sure she really did wash off all of the blood.

"Aubrey…"

"I'm not crazy, Chloe," Aubrey blurts out and looks up. The corners of her lips twitch despite her best efforts to keep a neutral expression. She said too much even by saying that little.

Chloe blinks. "I never said that you-"

"You know what, just forget it," Aubrey cuts her off and holds up a hand to stop her from speaking. "Just drop it, Chloe," she adds before Chloe can get another word in. She lets her hand fall back down to her side. This isn't a conversation she wants to be having right now – or ever. The point is that she isn't crazy, and it doesn't need to be discussed further than that. She's fine. Beca taped the photograph to the refrigerator then came back for it. Jesse is just an idiot. And the Trebles are douchebags who somehow managed to break in without waking Chloe – which isn't all that shocking considering Chloe could sleep through a bomb going off. She hasn't figured out the music yet, but she'll find who is doing that too.

"Aubrey, talk to me," Chloe tries to coerce her. She reaches forward and rests a hand against Aubrey's arm.

Aubrey jolts back away from the physical contact. She doesn't deserve such comfort right now – not after everything she has managed to screw up. "Stop touching me, Chloe!" she raises her voice without meaning to. Her irritation with herself makes her blood boil.

Chloe presses both hands to her forehead. "Okay," she whispers, appearing momentarily distressed by the yelling. "Okay." She holds her hands flat in front of her. "Can we not go through this, Bree?" She gives Aubrey a pleading look.

Not going through this is fine with Aubrey – although she is sure that her interpretation of Chloe's words is not at all what Chloe meant by them. She momentarily considers just giving in and explaining in detail the events of last night and this morning, but what if Chloe doesn't believe her? Or what if she does but thinks that Aubrey just deserves what she gets for being so hard on the Bellas and for already seeming like she's out to make the week miserable for everyone? She'll take Treble harassment over Chloe's judgment any day. Maybe her anxiety has just turned into full-blown insanity. She's a fool for even considering burdening Chloe with what's happening. Her lips tremble against her will and she spins around before Chloe can see she's upset beyond anger. They don't need to go through this. She storms down the hall and into the bedroom.

Maybe she is just crazy.

"Aubrey, you need to stop for a second," Chloe says seriously as she follows her.

Aubrey spins around to face her again once she's standing beside her suitcase. Chloe doesn't understand. She  _won't_  understand. Aubrey wants to tell her. She presses her lips together and straightens her posture to feel better about herself as she tries to ignore the heaviness in her chest. "Everything is fine," she says with a level of calmness that she has no idea how she managed to muster. She keeps her breaths even (even though her lungs feel like they're going to explode again) and plasters the best smile she can manage on her face. "It's fine."

Chloe looks appalled by Aubrey's words. "Since when did we start lying to each other like this?" She walks over to the bed and sits down on the corner of it, folding her arms across her chest. "Let's just go home."

"We're not going home," Aubrey responds without missing a beat. She can't go home now. Not when she took a mental oath to get through this wedding like a Posen.

"Yesterday, you wanted to go home," Chloe points out. "Now  _I_  want to go home."

"We're not going home," Aubrey repeats curtly. She doesn't really believe that Chloe actually wants to go home; she just wants them to stop fighting. Aubrey doesn't want to fight either. She absently scratches her nails hard against her palms as she tries to figure out how to fix this.

"Fine," Chloe whispers and shakes her head. She clenches her jaw and gets to her feet, glancing around the room for a moment before she begins to make the bed. She pouts as she pulls at the blankets a little too roughly and just makes them messier.

Aubrey rolls her eyes at Chloe's sulking and turns around. She kneels down on the floor and digs through the odds and ends she didn't take out of her suitcase. She pulls out the bottle of anxiety pills she has been taking for the past ten years with shaky hands. She can still feel her hands burning from the hot water scalding them and her fingernails scraping them – a sensation she hasn't felt in at least nine years. Trying to keep the bottle out of Chloe's sight, despite that it's no secret she takes the pills once a day, she presses her palm down on the cap and twists it open. If this is all just a result of her being crazy, these will fix it – or so she desperately tries to convince herself. She reminds herself that if she wasn't crazy, she wouldn't be taking them to begin with. She swallows back anger and shakes two pills out onto her palm.

"Aubrey, you're only supposed to take one of those," Chloe points out. Her voice is laced with concern and maybe even slight fear.

"This is not your business, Chloe." Aubrey caps the bottle and tosses it back in her suitcase then looks down at the medication in her hand. Is the fact that she has to take medication not humiliating enough? She closes her fingers around the pills in her palm then climbs to her feet. She's become used to handling the bottle around Chloe, but she's not going to deal with the embarrassment of taking the pills in front of her. She digs her nails into her skin and attempts to keep her chin from quivering as she steps out into the hall.

"Aubrey!" Chloe reprimands her in a firm tone.

Aubrey ignores her. She tosses the two pills into her mouth and dry swallows them before Chloe can follow her. She is not  _crazy_. But it hits her that now Chloe probably thinks that she is. She retreats back into the bathroom before Chloe can get to her to convince her to talk. This time, she locks the door. 


	15. Chapter Fifteen

**Arrhythmia**

* * *

  
_Come up to meet you,_   
_Tell you I'm sorry._   
_You don't know how lovely you are._   
_I had to find you,_   
_Tell you I need you,_   
_Tell you I set you apart._   
_\- Coldplay_   


* * *

_"It is so nice out today!" Chloe exclaimed as she walked across the quad – directly toward Aubrey._

_Aubrey groaned and tried to bury her face behind her Philosophy book. But it was too late. Chloe had already spotted her. She couldn't understand why this girl refused to let her alone. From the moment they met at Bellas auditions and Chloe realized they shared a few classes, she was insistent they be best friends. It didn't make any sense. Especially since Chloe was already friends with nearly every single person on campus. There was literally no reason for her to be accosting Aubrey with her sickeningly-happy moods and her disregard for personal space every chance she got. Couldn't she tell that Aubrey didn't want to be around her? That was actually a lie, because everybody wanted to be around Chloe Beale. Even the upper-classmen talked to her._

_"I hardly ever got to study outside in grade school," Chloe kept talking. "It rained like every day in Miami right when I got off the bus." She dropped her books on the ground then sat down and placed a plastic bag she was holding on top of her books. "Plus, I always left my books in the yard to go surfing so my mom made me stay inside until my work was done because one time it rained and she had to pay like $50 for the book it ruined. What about you?"_

_Aubrey heaved a sigh and dropped her book on her lap. "I'm trying to study," she pointed out. She tried to focus on her book but ended up staring at Chloe out of the corner of her eye, refusing to look directly at her. Chloe was a mystery – always nonchalantly sharing personal details of her life and expecting Aubrey to do the same. It was irritating. Mostly because sometimes Aubrey wished she could do the same. But even that one time when Chloe coerced her into admitting her favorite color felt like too much. Not wanting to be caught staring, Aubrey reread a paragraph in her book._

_"I have to study too." Chloe really didn't take a hint, did she? "I bought us lunch." She leaned forward and rustled through the bag._

_Aubrey blinked and looked at the bag. Did Chloe think that she was too poor to buy her own food? She was very clearly not poor. "I can afford my own lunch." She pinched her features together, offended by the gesture._

_"I know, but I bought you lunch anyway." Chloe shook her head and pulled two sandwiches and two bottles of apple juice out of the bag – followed by a bag of chips as well. "That's what friends do."_

_"We're not friends." Maybe that was a little too harsh. But it was the truth. It kind of hurt to say it out loud, but Aubrey couldn't really pinpoint why. She had lived her entire life without friends. Chloe wasn't going to throw everything off and be some sort of exception. She reminded herself that she didn't even have any use for friends. They got in the way of her schoolwork._

_Chloe looked momentarily taken aback by her words but quickly recovered by grinning and bumping Aubrey with her shoulder. "Study-buddies then," she corrected herself. "I could really use your help with Philosophy."_

_Aubrey didn't believe that for one second. She already knew that Chloe was a straight A student and that she barely even needed to study – unlike Aubrey who felt like she was studying from the moment she woke up in the morning until she went to bed (also usually in the morning). She inched away from Chloe's arm – overwhelmed by the amount of electricity one single touch seemed to send coursing through her. She stared at her in disgust – was beginning to hate her even. Chloe didn't have the right to make Aubrey feel, well, whatever it was that she made Aubrey feel. There wasn't really a word for it._

_"Well, look at you two rejects."_

_Aubrey and Chloe both looked up at the same time to see Alice and her posse approaching them. Aubrey immediately closed her book and straightened herself up. Chloe shook her head and started to open one of her books._

_"Do you really think you should be eating that before the bikini car wash?" Alice stared down at the sandwiches and wrinkled her nose. "Aubrey, your freshman fifteen is turning into a freshman five hundred." She frowned and looked at Chloe. "Chloe, you're tipping the scale. The two of you aren't going to be eating like that when I run the Bellas."_

_Chloe looked up at her and scoffed._

_Aubrey's throat felt dry. It wasn't possible that she was gaining weight. She ate healthy and she spent an hour at the gym every day - plus, she jogged every morning as well. She looked over at Chloe and they briefly locked eyes._

_'You look fine,' Chloe mouthed to her reassuringly._

_Aubrey drew in a breath and quickly looked back up at Alice. "I'll add another hour at the gym," she assured her confidently. "I won't disappoint the Bellas." She could feel Chloe's gaze practically drilling a hole right through her._

_"It's going to take more than another hour at the gym for you to get rid of that stomach," Alice commented. She folded her arms and looked the two of them. "You might as well just live there."_

_"I like how I look, Alice," Chloe informed her._

_"That's part of the problem," Alice replied. She rolled her eyes and looked at Aubrey._

_Aubrey blinked and glanced over at Chloe – who was trying to read something in her book and just ignore Alice. She could have sworn that the two of them were friends. She looked back up at Alice and pressed her lips together. She wanted to stick up for Chloe, but pleasing Alice took priority. She could feel Chloe look up at her again._

_"I'm going to let you in on a Bellas secret, since Chloe obviously doesn't care that she's fat." Alice stared straight at Aubrey, locking eyes with her. "You're a good singer. If you do what I tell you to lose weight, I promise you'll have a solo."_

_A solo. Aubrey perked up. "I'll do whatever it takes," she promised her._

_"Aubrey!" Chloe reprimanded her._

_"If you put it in you, just make sure it comes back out," Alice directed her vaguely. "That shouldn't be too hard for you."_

_Chloe stared at Alice in disgust whereas Aubrey just stared at her._

_Alice directed her gaze to Chloe. "You know by now that all the Bellas do it, Chloe." She motioned for her friends. "Come on, Ladies." She shot Aubrey and Chloe one last repulsed glance before walking away. "See you at rehearsals, slutbags."_

_"What is wrong with her," Chloe muttered and picked up her sandwich._

_Aubrey swallowed thickly and stared at the food. It would give her more control over her weight…_

xxxxx

Aubrey feels jittery as she towels up the water on the bathroom floor. She knows the uneasiness is all in her head, but she shouldn't have taken more than the correct dosage. She's lightheaded as she scrubs up all of the moisture until the floor is completely dry. Tears well up in her eyes, but she refuses to let them fall. She just keeps telling herself that she isn't crazy. People take anxiety medication all the time. She wasn't  _imagining_  the photograph or the music. That's not even what her medication is for. She slaps the wet towel down on the floor then leans back on her knees and rubs the back of her hand across her face. She exhales slowly through her mouth and sits back against the wall, resting her arms on her bent knees.

She wants to think she's getting worked up over nothing, but someone writing 'CRAZY' in blood on her mirror is far from nothing. She tells herself there's a difference between being crazy and being upset. There  _is_  a difference. They wouldn't even write the word if they didn't know about the photograph and music. She looks up at the mirror, temporarily wondering if the word had actually even been there.

If it wasn't for the photograph disappearing, she knows she wouldn't be doubting herself.

She breathes in sharply as it hits her out of nowhere that she has some tangible proof that she isn't just losing it. She leans forward and spins her jacket around so the arms are tied behind her back and the majority of the fabric is on her lap. She digs through her pocket then flips her phone open so quickly that it makes a clicking noise. No one could have erased her calls. She touches the button for 'Received Calls' then lets out a breath she didn't realize she had been holding.

_'Unknown Caller'_   
_'Unknown Caller'_   
_'Chloe'_   
_'Chloe'_   
_'Brian Holloway (Intern)'_   
_'Chloe'_

She stares at the 'Unknown Caller's as she places her phone down on the floor. She sniffles and wipes at her nose with her wrist. Is she supposed to feel better knowing that someone is doing this to her and it's not just in her head? She bites her thumbnail for a moment then sniffles again and rests her arms back on her legs. She doesn't feel better. She wants to pretend that she doesn't care about whoever hates her enough to do this – but, in the end, she does. She does because she wants to know what she did wrong. She doesn't even consider it might have been directed at Chloe; she knows right away that it wasn't. Sometimes she doesn't understand how Chloe doesn't even have to try and everyone loves her, but Aubrey gives all of her effort and ends up with the word 'CRAZY' written on her bathroom mirror. Maybe she should try to call the person back and see who answers?

She rubs at her cheeks with her palm and tries to even out her breaths to calm her stomach. The ice cream from the previous night rises up in the back of her throat and she clamps a hand over her mouth as she chokes it back down. She swallows as hard as she can then presses the back of her hand against her mouth and nose. Her throat and nostrils burn. It comes back up. She swallows again.

She wonders if maybe it's best just to let it happen – to just get rid of the extra medication, to achieve some sort of release, to momentarily feel  _better_  afterward until the realization of being a stress-vomiter again sinks in. But it's not really stress-vomiting if she's doing it because she took too many pills.  _One extra pill isn't dangerous, Aubrey._  Her hands are shaking and she considers it might even just be the familiarity drawing her back in. She doesn't know how to handle this situation, but vomiting (clinging to something she  _knows_ ) almost feels like it would be stress- _relief_. She maneuvers herself up onto her knees again then rests her elbows on the sides of the toilet bowl and places her head in her hands. If she can just feel calmer for a second, maybe she'll be able to think.

Her stomach has started to settle even though her nerves should get it all worked up again. She draws in a breath then exhales while whispering the word 'okay' to herself. She lowers one of her hands away from her head and considers just making it happen.

xxxxx

_Someone jiggled the handle on Aubrey's locked dorm room door then knocked. Aubrey ran a hand through her hair and looked up from her laptop – where she'd been writing a paper on Socialism for the past two hours. Shit. She must have been late for the floor meeting. Her heart skipped a beat. She was never late for anything. She looked back down and quickly moved her mouse so the 'start' bar on her computer screen appeared. There was still an hour and three minutes until she had to leave if she wanted to be fifteen minutes early. Her brows furrowed and she looked up at the door again. She mentally thanked the nuisance on the other side for nearly giving her a heart attack then shook her head and resumed typing._

_There was another impatient knock._

_"I'm coming," Aubrey snapped and hit 'save' then pressed down the top of her laptop. 'This had better be important,' she thought. She pushed her chair away from her desk then stood and pushed the chair back in before making her way across her room and to the door. She turned the lock then pressed down on the handle and pulled the door open. She straightened herself up and tried to look as pleasant and presentable as possible. Her expression changed immediately and she gaped in irritation when she saw it was none other than Chloe standing in the hall. But, if she put thought into it, it's not as though she would have expected it to be anyone else. Even her roommate rarely showed up at the room._

_But for serious though. It was bad enough Chloe was constantly finding her on the quad. Now she was showing up at her dorm too?_

_Chloe squeezed between Aubrey and the wall and let herself into Aubrey's dorm room without waiting for an invitation – which Aubrey didn't actually plan to extend anyway. "You didn't do it, did you?" she asked in a thick voice._

_Aubrey let out an annoyed breath and turned to face Chloe, her hand still lingering on the door handle. "Do what?" she asked. Ugh. Why was she talking to her? Engaging her would just cause her to stay and continue to talk – which was exactly what Aubrey didn't want. "You need to leave." She motioned toward the hall._

_"What Alice said," Chloe elaborated. She pressed her lips together to form a straight line. Was she going to start crying? She really needed to go._

_"For serious," Aubrey said and pointed to the hall. "Get out."_

_"Promise me you're not going to do it, Aubrey," Chloe begged. She looked so distressed by the idea that Aubrey might actually be considering Alice's suggestion that it stung Aubrey a little. Was stung the right word? It wasn't a good feeling. "Promise."_

_Aubrey blinked. To be honest, she would rather put in three extra hours at the gym than follow Alice's weight-loss regimen. She vomited enough as it was already. "If I promise, will you leave?" she asked with a tight smile._

_Chloe nodded several times without even giving it a second thought._

_"Fine." Aubrey let go of the door handle and held up her right hand. "I promise." She dropped her hand. "Now you hold up your end of the deal."_

_"That doesn't count, Aubrey," Chloe retorted._

_What did Chloe want her to do? Give a speech? "Yes, it does," Aubrey argued._

_"No, it doesn't. You didn't do it right." Chloe lifted her left hand and held out her pinky. "Pinky promise."_

_Aubrey stared at her hand and narrowed her eyes, trying to understand what Chloe was asking her to do. What the hell was a pinky promise? "I don't know what that is," she admitted with enough aggravation that hopefully Chloe wouldn't bother to tell her. "You have to hold up your end of the bargain."_

_Chloe's jaw dropped. Literally dropped. She leaned forward and grabbed Aubrey by the hand, yanking her away from the door. "You do it like this," she said and quickly interlocked their pinkies before Aubrey even had a chance to comprehend what was happening. "It's like more serious than placing your right hand on the Bible."_

_Aubrey highly doubted that was true. "What the hell?" She tugged her hand away from Chloe's and quickly rubbed the area that she had touched. She swallowed thickly and took a step back, put off by the momentary feeling that she might actually like when Chloe touched her. It made her feel warm, and she wanted to feel more of that. What was she supposed to do with that feeling?_

_Chloe placed her hands on Aubrey's arms. Aubrey didn't move. Couldn't move. "Now you've promised correctly." She squeezed her arms and smiled at her. "And I'll keep my end of the promise too." Her hands dropped and she absently swatted at Aubrey's thigh. "But I'll see you at the floor meeting, Study-buddy." She took a step back toward the door. "I'll save you a seat beside me."_

_Aubrey watched her leave in stunned silence._

_And Aubrey kept her end of the promise._

xxxxx

Aubrey can't do it. It doesn't matter the reason; she can't bring herself to vomit on purpose. She took an oath. – She thinks about senior year, tries to convince herself that she already broke her promise, but that had been a fluke. She had been bound to vomit like that whether it be on the floor or in the bathroom. She reaches up and grabs the corner of the sink then uses it to pull herself to her feet. Her hands are still shaking and she realizes that she's just going to have to internally deal with the build-up of stress. Maybe if she ignores it, it will go away. Can ignoring a problem still be considered facing it? It's what her father always wanted her to do – just remember anxiety was all in her head and 'get the hell over it'.

She turns on the sink water (the cold faucet this time) and cups her hands under the stream. She watches the water fill them until it starts overflowing over her fingers then she dips her head and rinses the tears off her face. She doesn't want Chloe to see she's been crying. She turns off the water and dries her face on a towel. There is a twinge of nervousness as she looks into the mirror to make sure she's presentable. She tells herself to get over it and relaxes a little when she sees her own face as opposed to blood. She wipes off a few droplets of water that the towel missed near her chin then fixes her jacket and picks up her phone. She turns and unlocks the door.

Chloe looks up from where she's sitting on the floor, propped up against the wall, when the door opens. She's dressed now – wearing a t-shirt, shorts, and an expression that Aubrey can only describe as 'pissed off'. She doesn't need to make words. She just lifts her hand and the gesture automatically screams, 'what the hell was that about?'

Aubrey ignores the anger. Chloe bounces back from being angry quickly, so she doesn't feel the need to address it. She breathes for a moment and straightens her posture then musters up the calmest, most carefree voice she can find (hoping to appear like she's completely over the entire morning already). "We're going to miss breakfast."

Chloe huffs as she drops her hand to the floor and gapes at her.

Aubrey presses her lips together and gives brief nod to prove that she's for serious then turns down the hall to go change her clothes.

Chloe will get over it as well.


	16. Sixteen

 

**Arrhythmia**

* * *

  
_Come up to meet you,_   
_Tell you I'm sorry._   
_You don't know how lovely you are._   
_I had to find you,_   
_Tell you I need you,_   
_Tell you I set you apart._   
_\- Coldplay_

* * *

"What's up with Aubrey and Beca?" one of the Bellas asks.

Aubrey keeps her back to them and pretends to be interested in a very sumptuous-looking array of food lined up on the buffet table. If they find it suspicious that she's barely moved from her spot over the last few minutes, they're not letting on. She guesses they're not even paying attention to her – considering they're talking loudly enough behind her back that she can hear them if she strains to.

"What do you mean?" Chloe asks, keeping her voice low. But Chloe's not very good at whispering.

"They haven't talked to us since we got here," Cynthia-Rose points out.

"They're just having a hard time," Chloe dismisses the accusation. "This week is just really weird for all three of us."

"I can cheer Aubrey up," Fat Amy states. "I met this guy in town and I think he'd be up for a threesome. If she has sex with us, she'll totally forget about you and Beca." She pauses. "I'm pretty good in bed."

"Is he hot?" Stacie asks.

"I don't think that's a good idea," Chloe replies lightly. "It's okay. I can handle Aubrey."

"I don't know how you do it," Jessica comments. Her voice carries a tone of sympathy.

"I barely even got through Bellas practice with her," Ashley adds.

Aubrey tenses the muscles in her shoulder and looks at the white table cloth. They're exaggerating. She shakes her head to herself and rolls her eyes, letting out an exasperated breath.

"She didn't even notice you two were, like, there," Stacie reminds them.

A few of the girls giggle. Chloe isn't one of them.

"How do you live with her?" someone else asks. "It has to be like living with a military officer."

Aubrey grinds her teeth and tries to keep herself from turning around and starting something. She's not going to ruin this week for Chloe.

Beca steps up beside her in one long stride. She keeps her head down and grabs a pancake off the stack then pauses and joins Aubrey in staring at the table for what feels like way too long. "Hey," she says after a moment. It's hesitant but serious, like she's not sure how to catch Aubrey's attention even though she's standing right there. She glances up at Aubrey and Aubrey really wishes she would leave. If only there was a chair for her to drag with her.

"I probably...deserve to be ignored," Beca says when she's met with silence. Aubrey can agree with her so far. "Look, Aubrey, I think we need-"

This morning is set on going wrong in every way possible and Aubrey isn't sure she can deal with this day much longer. She's starting to think she must have committed some heinous crime to deserve this. "What do you _want_ , Beca?" she hisses. Didn't they just establish that they were going to stay away from each other? Better yet – wasn't Beca just telling her that  _she_  was the reason they couldn't manage to do so? "I am trying to stay on the opposite end of the island from you." Even the opposite end of the  _world_  wouldn't be far away enough from Beca Mitchell.

"I know you didn't plant the photograph," Beca jumps straight to the punch, speaking in a low murmur. "I think someone is screwing with us."

Aubrey immediately turns to face her – irritation suddenly long forgotten. She draws in a breath and almost believes her at first. "How do you know it wasn't me?" She needs to make sure Beca isn't just screwing with her. She almost forgot that Beca had mentioned a photograph in her room as well – although when she does remember, all she feels is irked that Beca accused her of placing it there. But did this mean something else happened to Beca as well? Her heart beats a mile a minute at the prospect that someone (even if it is Beca) might understand what's happening. She presses her lips together and swallows then breathes out through her mouth and tries to keep her expression neutral.

Beca lifts her head and the two of them lock eyes – and Aubrey knows immediately that whatever Beca has to say, it's not something that she wants to discuss here. "Can you meet me at the bonfire tonight?" she asks.

Aubrey is surprised by how little consideration she has to give before nodding her head. Their morning at the cliffs seems distant – like it happened a year ago. The rest of the morning still feels too close for comfort.

Beca gives a single nod of confirmation that they'll meet later then points behind her with one hand, the other holding her plate, and takes a step back. "I have to go talk to Chloe about something," she says then presses her lips together so they form a straight line.

Aubrey turns and looks past her at Chloe and the group of Bellas who are still speaking. Judging by their grins and laughter, they're probably not still talking about her.

"Don't listen to them," Beca says out of nowhere.

The statement takes Aubrey aback. She blinks then looks at Beca and wrinkles her forehead. Last night and this morning, Beca probably would have  _led_  their gossip mill with her thoughts on Aubrey. Now she's being nice. But whatever her sudden motivation is, it matters less than Aubrey realizing that Beca thinks their words are getting to her. She scoffs and turns up her nose. "I'm not."

"Right," Beca breathes out and drops her hand to her side. She nods again and turns to walk away.

Aubrey shakes her head and turns back to the buffet table. She stares at the food for a moment longer before turning and glancing over her shoulder, listening to hear if they have anything else to say about her.

 

xxxxx

"That is not all you're eating," Chloe states and looks down at Aubrey's plate as she places two glasses of orange juice of the buffet table. "Look at all this food, Aubrey."

Aubrey blinks and glances at her plate as Chloe returns. She realizes that all she's picked up have been two slices of toast and a packet of strawberry jelly. She's about to tell Chloe she was distracted (though not with what) when Chloe takes her plate out of her hands and begins loading it up with food. "Chloe, I'm not going to eat all that."

"Well, you won't, but I will. Ooh." Chloe grins and leans forward, scooping some scrambled eggs onto Aubrey's plate.

Aubrey rolls her eyes and looks at Chloe's already full plate on the table beside their drinks. Chloe is like some sort of human-vacuum. "You're going to have to go jogging with me tomorrow morning," she points out. "I'm waking you up at eight."

Chloe makes a face of disapproval as she places a scone she was picking up back down on the plate it came from. "Let's find somewhere to sit." She passes Aubrey's plate back to her.

"For serious, Chloe? You just touched that then put it back down." Aubrey grabs the scone and drops it on her plate as it's shoved into her hand. "That's disgusting. Do you even know how many germs are on your hands?"

Chloe grabs her drink and looks at Aubrey as though she's trying to determine whether or not that question is rhetorical. She draws in a breath as though she's going to say something then bites down on her lower lip and diverts her gaze to the floor. Is she trying to think up an actual number?

"A lot," Aubrey supplies for her in a clipped tone.

"You don't seem to mind," Chloe points out and looks up at her again with a smile.

"I live with you," Aubrey reminds her. "Whatever germs you have, you're going to spread them to me anyway."

Chloe just stares at her and continues smiling.

"Chloe," Aubrey snaps. "You're not even listening."

"I am listening," Chloe argues. Then presumably to prove her point adds, "If I wasn't listening, I wouldn't have heard you tell me I'm not listening."

Aubrey frowns.

"Let's go find empty seats." Chloe turns and looks toward the several round tables set up throughout the room.

Aubrey sighs and grabs her drink off the buffet table. She takes a step forward so she's beside Chloe and glances around. The Bellas and Trebles are spread out among the tables, talking amongst themselves. She doesn't want to sit with Trebles and she definitely doesn't want to end up stuck at a table with Beca – whether or not they're meeting tonight. "I'm going to eat outside," she comments.

"Okay." Chloe gives the tables one last glance then turns to face Aubrey. She nods. "I'll go too."

Aubrey looks around then makes for the door – Chloe trailing loyally behind her.

 

xxxxx

Aubrey's muscles ache from falling more than she realized they did. It's not until she's trying to sit down under the shade of a tree in front of the inn and everything feels like it's on fire that she realizes how hard she hit the ground. She guesses that she just didn't have that much time to think about it between then and now. A frown etches itself across her face. She places her plate and glass down on the ground in front of her then uses her hands to help pull her legs into a cross-legged position.

Chloe kneels down across from her and puts her plate down then takes a sip of her juice as she sits back on her heels.

"You know, you didn't have to come out here," Aubrey points out. She pokes at the scrambled eggs that Chloe put on her plate for a moment with a fork before taking a bite of them. Her stomach growls in demand of more before she can even swallow. Eating ice cream for dinner was not at all satisfying. She takes another bite of the eggs and looks up at Chloe as she puts her drink down.

"I know." Chloe sits down with one leg curled under her and the other stretched out in front of her, her foot resting against Aubrey's thigh. "But I like being with you." She pauses. "Even if you do make me angry, which I still am."

Aubrey looks down and picks up a piece of toast like she didn't hear what Chloe said. She's still feeling worked up over everything that happened – especially the mirror and the medication. Chloe's frustration with her just makes it worse. She takes a bite of the bread and looks in the direction of the inn.

Chloe follows her gaze. "Do you ever think about getting married?" she asks and leans forward to steal the scone from Aubrey's plate.

Aubrey draws in a breath at the question and fumbles for an answer. "Everyone thinks about that, Chloe." It's the only way to admit that sometimes she does. It's a distant dream though. Not really something she wastes her time putting much thought into. She can't really accept that anyone would want to marry her, but, on occasion, she still tries to imagine it as best as she can. She tries to think about what her husband might be like. Her thoughts never really stray too far after the logical 'that's not going to happen' sinks in. But she still watches cheesy romance movies and (not that she'd ever tell Chloe - or anyone, for that matter) tries to think of what it would be like if she was in the female lead's shoes. She considers that maybe she even watches them too often if they're the first thing she thinks of whenever she thinks of marriage.

But Aubrey has a thing for sappy romance movies; the cliché kind where people tearfully declare their love then kiss in the pouring rain. It's a little disgusting when she actually thinks about it, because real life marriages are more like what happened between her mother and father. People realize love doesn't exist and they settle for each other. That's what Aubrey expects to happen. But if love does exist, the movies make her wonder if it's really as intense as it looks, and, if it is, what it will feel like if someone knocks the wind out of her one day. She looks at Chloe and tries to ignore how the question made her lungs feel smaller.

"I think about it a lot," Chloe admits. She pulls off a piece of the scone with her fingers and pops it into her mouth, still staring at the inn. She grins and turns back around to face Aubrey. "When I was little, I used to marry my dog."

Aubrey pulls her head back and stares at her. Chloe is 'interesting' sometimes (read: all of the time). Her childhood stories are wild compared to Aubrey's, and if Chloe was known for lying (which she isn't), Aubrey would doubt she even tells the truth about growing up. She shakes her head and picks up her glass of juice.

Chloe giggles at Aubrey's expression. "My mom let me use her white bed sheet as a dress. And my dad had this really old top hat and I'd put it on my dog when my dad was at work. Then I'd steal one of his ties, but I couldn't really figure out how to tie it around my dog's neck, so I'd just use it to tie him to the table in the hallway. For some weird reason, I thought that was how you prevented your husband from leaving you."

Orange juice nearly comes out of Aubrey's nose. She quickly lowers the glass away from her mouth and swallows. "What, does you mom tie up your dad?" she asks.

"Sometimes," Chloe replies. "But not for  _that_  reason."

"Ew!" Aubrey exclaims. "Chloe, that is so gross."

"I know!" Chloe replies, talking at twice the speed now. "Like gag me with a spoon, please."

Aubrey shakes her head. "I don't even want to know how you know that." She takes another sip of her juice.

"I was five and they forgot to lock their door, okay?" Chloe goes on to tell her anyway. "It was like the most scarring moment of my entire life, Aubrey. In the time it took my mom to put clothes on, I was on the phone, hysterically trying to report a murder to my grammy because I couldn't remember how to dial 911."

"Chloe, it's literally 9-1-1," Aubrey laughs and lowers her glass again.

"Well, I know that  _now_ , Miss State-the-Obvious!" Chloe raises a hand and dismisses the story she got side-tracked with. "Anyway. My mom used to make my brother be the priest and dress up in one of our dad's suits whenever I asked him to. And he always had friends over, so I'd have a whole audience."

"I can't believe Daniel still likes you after all the stuff you did to him," Aubrey comments and shakes her head. She picks up her second slice of toast.

"But I was like the cutest little sister ever," Chloe replies with a grin. "Why don't you tell me a story?" she suggests.

Aubrey presses her lips off to one side and looks down at her toast, picking at the crust. She exhales quietly and considers asking Chloe if she played make-believe often. She wants to tell her about the one time she did – when her father was away and she and her siblings sneaked out to a fair for the first time. They pretended they were running away to join the circus. She was fifteen. She bought a clown nose and got a music note painted on her face. She forgot to wash it off before her father came home. She glances up at Chloe and stays silent.

Chloe's grin has faded to a sympathetic smile – like she can read every one of Aubrey's emotions, even if she can't read her thoughts. She doesn't press her. "So, what do you want your wedding song to be?" she switches back to the original topic. "I'll sing you mine," she offers.

"You sing me yours," Aubrey replies and bypasses the question completely – ignoring it in her head as well.

"Okay." Chloe shifts into a different position so both of her legs are curled by her sides. She picks up her glass of orange juice and takes a sip then wipes at her mouth with her thumb before looking at Aubrey. She inhales deeply and smiles. "You know, sometimes I wish I lived in a musical where I could just sing like this all the time," she comments. Her smile grows and she looks at the ground for a moment as she puts her glass down. She looks back up and begins singing.

  
_I wasn't there the moment you first learned to breathe._   
_But I'm on my way, on my way._   
_I wasn't there the moment you got off your knees._   
_But I'm on my way, on my way._   
_Lay down and come alive in all you've found,_   
_All you're meant to be._   
_And for now, we'll wait until the morning night,_   
_And close our eyes to see._   
_Just close your eyes to see._   


Aubrey could have guessed it would be this song. Chloe plays it on her guitar all too often – mostly in the middle of the night in her own room after the two of them have a fight. She doesn't smile back. Just quietly listens.

  
_A tear must have formed in my eye when you had your first kiss,_   
_But I'm on my way, on my way._   
_So leave a space deep inside for everything I'll miss,_   
_'Cause I'm on my way, on my way._   
_Lay down and come alive in all you've found,_   
_All you're meant to be._   
_Oh, and for now, we'll wait until the morning night,_   
_And close our eyes to see._   
_Just close your eyes to see._   


Aubrey folds her arms – torn between Chloe's voice and jealousy. She tries to block it out. She knows that one day that song will be playing for Chloe and someone else – has come to accept it. She tenses her shoulders and looks at the grass, telling herself it doesn't bother her. Chloe deserves to be happy.

  
_And when you feel no saving grace,_   
_Well, I'm on my way, on my way._   
_And when you're bound to second place,_   
_Well, I'm on my way, on my way._   
_So don't believe it's all in vain,_   
_'Cause I'm on my way, on my way._   
_The light at the end is worth the pain,_   
_'Cause I'm on my way, on my way._   


"I wish I had my guitar," Chloe comments. She strums the air a few times and bobs her head before continuing.

  
_I'll be there the moment you come out in white._   
_'Cause I'm on my way, on my way._   


"You should pick a new song," Aubrey states coldly and pulls a few blades of grass out of the dirt. She clenches her jaw and brushes her hand off against her pants.

"Why?" Chloe asks, looking taken aback and maybe even a little offended. She immediately jumps to a positive conclusion. "If that was your song, you can use it too."

Aubrey looks up. Sure, she'll go with  _that_  being the reason behind what she said. "We can't use the same song at our weddings," she nudges the conversation in that direction.

Chloe smirks. "We can if we marry each other." She winks.

That used to be fun to joke about, but not anymore. Not lately. Not when they're not a thing. Actually, it was never fun to joke about. "Do you even know what you're saying sometimes, Chloe?" Aubrey asks her seriously.

"I always know what I'm saying," Chloe replies a little too quickly. She draws in a breath and fumbles for words, slightly moving her mouth with no sound coming out – in the way that Aubrey notes usually happens whenever she's too excited or nervous. Aubrey can tell from the wavering smile that it's a mixture of both. "Aubrey, I…" Again with the fumbling. Aubrey can't deny that it's cute, but so much for always knowing what she's saying. She gets distracted for a moment, thinking that Chloe should script things in her head like she does rather than just blurt them out without stopping to think about how she's going to word them.

Aubrey glances behind her as she waits to hear what Chloe has to say. She leans back on her hand then hisses as pain shoots from her wrist up toward her elbow. She jolts forward again and rubs the offending area.

Chloe stops trying to make words. "What's wrong?" She moves onto her hands and knees and abandons what's left on her plate of food, crawling over to Aubrey. She's sits down beside her and looks at her wrist before looking up at her face.

Aubrey examines her arm. At least it isn't bruised. "It's fine," she dismisses it and looks at her food.

"Here, let me see it." Chloe reaches out to touch her arm.

"Ow, Chloe." Aubrey grimaces before Chloe can even touch her and pulls her arm back, holding it against her chest. "How many times do I have to tell you you don't look with your hands?"

"Just let me see," Chloe insists. She gets situated in a cross-legged position then takes Aubrey's arm by the elbow and eases it toward her, straightening it out. Aubrey tries to swallow the dryness in her throat as the pain eases. She doesn't understand how Chloe can touch it and automatically just make it feel better. That defies all medical laws. Chloe keeps one hand under Aubrey's elbow and takes her hand in the other, her thumb pressed against Aubrey's palm. "What'd you do to it?" she asks and slowly turns Aubrey's arm, looking it over.

Aubrey clenches her jaw and looks at the grass. "Nothing," she lies and shifts slightly. She's sure if she tells Chloe that it'll feel more like she landed on her ego than on any other part of her body. She tries to keep a blank expression but her lower lip juts out in a pout.

Chloe looks like she's trying not to smile. "It doesn't seem like nothing," she pushes and leans in closer to Aubrey's face.

Aubrey glances at her out of the corner of her eye. "Okay, I fell on my run," she blurts out quickly. "But it's fine, Chloe."

Chloe squeezes her arm.

"Ow!" Aubrey practically yells. "Jesus Christ! What the hell, Chloe?!"

"I thought you said it was fine." Chloe suppresses a smile and fails at the innocent look she's trying to give.

Aubrey just glares at her.

"You should really watch out for those tree roots," Chloe comments and leans back again. She continues to hold Aubrey's arm, stroking her palm with her thumb.

The corners of Aubrey's lips twitch at Chloe's assumption. Her stomach feels sick again and she looks away from her, not wanting to think about what she really tripped over.

"You know, I think I know how to make this better," Chloe says softly.

Aubrey's gaze snaps in her direction again. "What are you going to do?" she asks quickly and tries to tug her arm back. Chloe keeps a firm grip on her elbow.

"Relax," Chloe reassures her. "You're acting like you think I'm going to cut your arm off."

Aubrey frowns. With Chloe, one never can tell.

"Show me where it hurts the most," Chloe instructs her.

Aubrey hesitates for a moment. She tries to be stubborn. But then she lifts her other hand and points to an area on the inside of her arm, just above her wrist. She gives Chloe a cautious look, ready to yank her arm back at any time.

Chloe studies where she points then looks up at her face. "Aubrey, you need to relax," she tells her again. "I'm your best friend. Just trust me on this, okay? I'm not going to hurt you."

She's right. Aubrey draws in a breath then lets the tension drain out of her as she slowly exhales. "Okay," she complies.

Chloe smiles at her. "Good." She lifts Aubrey's arm slightly higher then leans over and gently presses her lips against Aubrey's wrist.

Aubrey's breath catches in her throat and she swallows thickly. Is the warmth that spreads through her arm then engulfs the rest of her supposed to be what makes her feel better? She doesn't know why, but it causes tears to spring into her eyes. She quickly looks away and refocuses on the grass.

"There." Chloe lifts her head again and slides her arm from Aubrey's elbow up to her shoulder. "What else hurts , Aubrey?" she asks tenderly, her voice just above a whisper.

Aubrey presses her lips together then tries to breathe. She knows how to tell Chloe that all of her muscles ache from falling, but she doesn't quite know how to voice that her insides hurt as well – or why everything feels so bad. She diverts her gaze in the opposite direction of Chloe. "Everything," she admits, just barely managing to muster out the word.

Chloe is silent for a moment and Aubrey can feel her just staring at her. "I think I can help with that too," she finally offers.

Aubrey lifts her head and meets Chloe's sympathetic gaze. She wants to ask her how. Or maybe to tell her that she doesn't think that she can. Instead, she just finds herself clinging to some semblance of hope that Chloe is telling the truth. Her lower lip quivers and she bites down on the inside of it to stop it.

"Are you going to let me help?" Chloe asks and tilts her head to the side.

Denying the offer isn't even an option. Aubrey looks down and nods her head. She holds her breath and waits for Chloe to do something.

Chloe lets go of her arm and pushes herself up onto her knees. She moves so she's straddling Aubrey's lap and wraps her arms around her neck. She leans over and kisses Aubrey on the cheek. Then she kisses her on the cheek again. And again. And again.

"Chloe, that's not helping," Aubrey mutters. She turns to the side and stretches her legs out in front of her.

Chloe pulls back and gives her a skeptical look. "It's not?" She pauses and purses her lips together. "Oh. I must have kissed the wrong spot." She smirks. "Silly me." She leans over and kisses a ticklish area on the side of Aubrey's neck.

"Chloe!" Aubrey shrieks and tries to shove her off. She tilts her head to the side and tries to restrict access to that spot on her neck. Chloe takes advantage of that and brushes her lips against the other side of Aubrey's neck while simultaneously tickling her side.

Aubrey squeals and falls over onto her back, taking Chloe down with her. "Chloe Beale!" She squirms and bursts out laughing as Chloe lightly slides her fingers across her lower stomach. "Stop!" she demands through giggling.

Chloe obeys and stops tickling her. She lays down on top of her, propping herself up with her arms on either side of Aubrey's head. "What am I going to do with you?" she asks quietly and presses their foreheads together.

Aubrey sighs and looks up to her, her smile slowly fading.

Chloe leans forward and softly kisses away the frown. She pulls back and rests one of her hands on Aubrey's hair. "I'll find a way to make it better, Aubrey," she reassures her and looks her in the eye. "I promise."


	17. Chapter Seventeen

**Arrhythmia**

* * *

  
_Come up to meet you,_   
_Tell you I'm sorry._   
_You don't know how lovely you are._   
_I had to find you,_   
_Tell you I need you,_   
_Tell you I set you apart._   
_\- Coldplay_   


* * *

"Remember when we used to make daisy chains?" Chloe asks. "Out on the quad?"

Aubrey looks up from silently stacking their empty plates and cups on top of each other. Chloe has plucked one of the white flowers out of the ground and is twirling it around between her thumb and forefinger. Bittersweet nostalgia replaces most of Aubrey's negative feelings. She's not sure if it makes her feel better or worse. Chloe looks up and fumbles to stick the flower in her hair above her ear. It falls on her lap. She picks it up and tries again.

Aubrey doesn't say anything. She sighs and abandons the dishes then kneels in front of where Chloe is sitting and takes the flower from her hand, tucking it securely into her hair. The white petals contrast against her ginger locks in all the right ways and somehow it makes her eyes look bluer than they already are. She knows it's foolish, but she gets a sense of pride from being able to convince flowers to stay in Chloe's hair. She learned from making daisy chains on the quad that whenever Chloe tries to do it herself, they always fall out within five minutes. She leans back slightly to admire her handiwork. Or possibly to just admire Chloe. She tells herself she's only thinking about the task of making the flower stay in Chloe's hair, because (as minuscule of an achievement as it is), it's what she should be thinking about – as opposed to just Chloe in general.

But Chloe is unfairly beautiful. How she still manages to take Aubrey's breath away, even after years of seeing her face every single day, Aubrey will never figure out. She's just one of those people who are impossible to stop looking at. Chloe glances up and smiles as she drops her hands down on her lap. Maybe it's her sincerity that adds that extra intensity. Her emotions are always clearly written across her face. Aubrey is still learning how to read some of them even after all this time, and while that should make her feel incompetent (she should be able to read Chloe like a textbook by now), maybe that's what makes Aubrey never want to take her eyes off of her. Chloe is a challenge. Or maybe Chloe is just that pretty. She tells herself to stop thinking.

"It's like we could just forget everything for awhile," Chloe continues. "Classes, our families, just," she pauses and looks up at the sky, "life." She shakes her head and look at the grass. Her smile fades slightly. "I wish it was still that easy. I could just make everything better with a pile of daisies."

"It was never that easy, Chloe," Aubrey points out. Anything they did to take their mind off the real world was just a temporary, senseless distraction.

Chloe is silent for a moment as she picks another daisy. "I know, but I pretend that it was," she admits finally. She glances up at Aubrey and forces a smile.

Aubrey slices a flower at the bottom of its stem with her thumbnail. She puts it down in front of her then picks another one exactly the same way. She tosses it on top of the first. It relaxes her so she continues doing it.

"We could pretend for awhile," Chloe suggests quietly.

Pretend  _what?_  Aubrey cuts through another flower. Sometimes she doesn't understand Chloe's thought process. She rarely understands Chloe's thought process. One more flower hits the pile. She feels like she can breathe again.

"I'll race you to pick the most flowers," Chloe offers daringly.

Aubrey glances up at her then looks down at the pile in front of her – having barely realized she was picking them to begin with. "That's not going to fix anything, Chloe," she replies and shakes her head. She looks back down and detaches another flower from the ground. It adds to the pile.

"Aubrey, sometimes having fun  _can_  fix things," Chloe argues.

Aubrey stares at her and throws down another flower. "Fun is a senseless distraction from the problem," she bites back.

"Bree, you won't even tell me what the real problem is." Chloe shakes her head. She takes on a lighter, teasing tone. "Except for maybe that you're afraid you're going to lose at picking flowers."

Aubrey's not even sure she knows how to voice what the problem is. She doesn't like where the conversation is going; she's already said enough. She opens her mouth to speak then shuts it again and frowns at Chloe. How do they keep getting back on the topic of flowers? "I would not lose," she snaps before she even knows what she's saying and gives Chloe a look of disbelief. She shakes her head at her. It's not like Chloe to mock her.

"It's okay." Chloe says nonchalantly. She leans forward with her hands flat on the grass. "We can both admit that I'm better at it than you are."

Aubrey holds her tongue. Bites down on it so hard that she almost flinches, really. Her breaths come heavier through her nose. For serious, what is Chloe trying to do? Pick a fight over flowers?

Chloe draws in a heavy breath then sighs it out. "It's good to be better than Aubrey Posen," she muses out loud to herself and nods in satisfaction. She pulls a flower out of the ground and adds it to her own pile.

It's not that Aubrey wants to prove that she's better than Chloe. She doesn't. At all. It's just that she  _needs_  to prove that she's better than everyone. She stares at Chloe for a fraction of a second then snaps before she can even process that she's up and moving. The expanse of grass is covered in the white flowers and she tries to pick them as quickly as possible, slicing them all at the bottom of the stem with her nails. It leaves her fingers feeling disgustingly sticky, but she tries to ignore that.

"That's not fair!" Chloe announces way too loudly and scrambles onto her hands and knees to pick flowers as well. "You got a head start!"

Aubrey lifts her head to briefly look up at Chloe. Chloe's not even bothering to neatly slice the flowers. She's just pulling them up roots and all. "Well, you're cheating," she argues back.

Chloe stop flower-picking and gapes at the accusation. "I am not!" She puts her flowers down and crawls over to Aubrey. "Take it back," she demands.

Aubrey presses her lips together in a smug smile and refuses to say anything. She sits upright with her legs curled under her and raises her brows at Chloe, almost daring her to make her take it back.

Chloe shifts so she's kneeling and at the same height as Aubrey. "You know what's cheating?" she asks and leans in so their lips are almost touching. Her breath smells like maple syrup from breakfast. It's distracting. "This." Her lips brush against Aubrey's as she speaks. She cups her hands over top of Aubrey's and, in one swift motion, takes all of her flowers.

Aubrey looks at her as she pulls back and sputters. "Chloe!" She looks down at her empty hands then at all the daisies that Chloe is holding.

Chloe's grin takes up half of her face. She giggles quietly and starts counting the flowers under her breath.

Aubrey's still partly in shock that her hands are empty. She huffs in disbelief then reaches over and pokes Chloe in the side.

Chloe makes a squeaking noise and drops half of the flowers. She falls backward onto her rear end and quickly tries to cover her exposed side. "You did not just do that!" She fights back her smile.

Aubrey tries to hold back the smirk that's threatening to take over her entire expression. "You should give those back, Chloe," she warns her.

Chloe leans forward, her arms still wrapped around herself. "What are you going to do about it?" she questions daringly.

Aubrey shrugs her shoulders and inches closer to her. "I can think of a few things," she muses. She can think of a lot of things. She leans over Chloe and looks her in the eye. Two can play at this game.

Chloe's breath seems to catch in her throat as she looks up at Aubrey. She leans back slightly and her arms slacken. "Are you going to show me what those things are?" she murmurs seductively. Her gaze lowers to Aubrey's lips and she leans forward.

Aubrey doesn't bother to give her a verbal answer. She leans forward as though she's going to kiss her then takes advantage of the moment by slipping her hands under Chloe's arms and tickling her sides.

Chloe shrieks and jolts backward, falling onto the grass. "Aubrey!" She tries to grab Aubrey's hands but can't stop squirming long enough to get a good grip on them. She arches her back up off the ground then tries to roll over, overcome by a never-ending fit of giggles. "Stop! Stop!"

Aubrey swings a leg over Chloe and straddles her to keep her from rolling away. Chloe manages to cover both of her sides and Aubrey moves to tickling her neck. She knows all of Chloe's ticklish areas. Basically every area of Chloe's body is ticklish – except for her feet. Aubrey thinks that's odd. Chloe kicks her feet rather ineffectively and tries to block Aubrey's hands from having access to her neck by tilting her head. She kicks up dirt with the heels of her shoes, and Aubrey briefly realizes they're both going to need showers after this. Leave it to Chloe to convince her that they should both be rolling around on the ground. Aubrey stops tickling her and gives her a chance to breathe.

Chloe's giggles fade out rather than stopping abruptly. She drops the flowers, which are completely squished now, and wipes tears off of her cheeks. She sniffles and grins. "Okay," she rushes to get out. "Okay, I surrender!" She picks up one of the flowers, half of its petals crinkled, and waves it in the air.

Aubrey leans back and looks down at her in satisfaction. She smirks and crawls off of her then offers her a hand. Chloe takes it and lets Aubrey pull her back up into a sitting position. Chloe pants and tries to catch her breath. They both survey the area. Aubrey arches a brow at the ruined flowers and Chloe bites her lower lip.

"Well, at least they're not all ruined." Chloe smiles and picks up one of the flowers that is still in one piece. "I told you having fun was a good idea. I just had to convince you to do it."

Aubrey just puffs out her cheeks and sighs. She needs to learn to see through Chloe's antics. She narrows her eyes at her then grabs a few unhurt daisies.

xxxxx

_Cut. Thread. Cut. Thread. Cut. Thread._

The methodic motions take her mind off of the events of earlier that morning. Aubrey can't deny that she enjoys making daisy chains. She doesn't enjoy them because they're pretty – the reason Chloe enjoys them. But because she likes the repetitive motions where she can focus but not think. It numbs her. She slices through another stem then weaves another flower through it.  _Cut. Thread._  It brings a light, relaxed smile to her face.

Chloe leans into Aubrey's side, focused on her own chain. Hers is a little sloppier than Aubrey's is. She has to pull the roots off the ends of some of the stems and it seems to take a little more effort for her to keep her chain from falling apart. "We should live somewhere with flowers someday," she suggests as she threads her last flower through two stems. "I want a garden." She maneuvers herself onto her knees and slips her chain around Aubrey's neck.

Aubrey glances up at her for a moment then just nods. She likes the city. She looks back down.  _Cut. Thread._  Her flowers stay together with ease. Chloe's chain feels like it's going to fall off her neck at any moment, but somehow her chains are always sturdier than they look. She keeps threading flowers, blocking out her surroundings. Chloe lets her do so in silence. Shockingly.

It takes Aubrey about five more minutes of threading flowers before she finishes her own. Chloe is just staring at Aubrey's hands when Aubrey looks up again. She leans forward and eases her chain over Chloe's head then adjusts it around her neck. She gives it an accomplished smile then subconsciously glances at Chloe for approval.

"I'm going to wear this until it dies," Chloe announces then pauses. "But probably just until it falls apart or I have to shower. Whichever comes first." Considering the dirt on their clothes, Aubrey hopes it's the shower. Chloe leans forward and presses her forehead against Aubrey's, smiling.

Aubrey sighs quietly and holds her gaze.

"Hey, Guys…" The words are drawn out.

Aubrey pulls away from Chloe and looks around her at Amy. She grins without putting much thought into it. "Hi, Amy." Chloe turns around and sits down beside Aubrey.

"I hope I'm not interrupting your  _you know_." Amy makes a face and puts her arms behind her back.

Their  _what_? Aubrey blinks. "Aca-scuse me?" she asks slowly. She's not sure making daisy chains really counts as a private affair.

"No, no, you're fine," Chloe replies without even a hint of confusion. "Did you need something?"

Aubrey glances at Chloe. She hates feeling like she's on a separate page from everyone else. She brushes it off and glances up at Amy again. "Do you want to join us?" she asks.

Amy makes a 'maybe' noise and shrugs her shoulders.

"Did Beca send you out here?" Chloe changes the topic.

_Beca_? Aubrey's smile becomes more forced.

"Yeah," Amy replies slowly and drops her arms back down to her sides. "About that. You know, if you don't want this job I know  _someone_  who might be willing to take it."

Chloe wrinkles her nose and shakes her head with a smile. "It's okay," she replies. She doesn't pay any attention to the fact that Aubrey is now staring at her with furrowed brows. "Aubrey and I got this."

Amy makes a noise of frustration. "That's what Beca said," she replies. She sighs and looks toward the inn for a moment then looks at the two of them again. "If you need help, you have my number. I'd be really good at this, Chloe."

"Need help with what?" Aubrey finally cuts in. She frowns and repeatedly glances between them. "Chloe, stop ignoring me."

"We'll give you a text if we need you," Chloe says. She smiles and gets to her feet then reaches down for Aubrey's hand. "Come on. We have a job. Well, I have a job, but I told Beca you'd help me."

Aubrey gets to her feet without the help of Chloe. "What kind of job, Chloe?" she asks. She knows that Chloe is Beca's maid of honor, but, so far, Beca hasn't asked her for help with anything. Chloe grabs her hand with a tight grip and tugs her arm. Aubrey turns to find Amy walking away from them. "Amy!" she calls for some help. Why does no one ever tell her anything? She huffs and looks at Chloe.

"Would you stop being so suspicious of Beca?" Chloe asks and shakes her head. "She's not even going to be there." She kneels down and picks up the plates with their cups on top with her free hand. "Let's go." She tugs Aubrey again.

It doesn't take rocket science for Aubrey to figure out that she doesn't have a choice unless she puts up a fight. She's not sure she wants to argue with Chloe after everything else that has happened today. "For serious, Chloe, what job?" she asks as Chloe tugs her toward the inn.

"Just relax," Chloe replies. "You'll like it."


	18. Eighteen

**Arrhythmia**

* * *

  
_Come up to meet you,_   
_Tell you I'm sorry._   
_You don't know how lovely you are._   
_I had to find you,_   
_Tell you I need you,_   
_Tell you I set you apart._   
_\- Coldplay_   


* * *

Chloe makes herself at home in the inn's kitchen by tossing their dirty dishes in the sink. She lets go of Aubrey's hand (finally) and makes her way toward a counter off to the side of the room. "I asked Beca if she needed this done right away, and she said to take our time," she states as though Aubrey's is already in on what exactly it is they're doing in the kitchen.

Aubrey comes to an abrupt halt in the doorway - holding the swinging door open with one hand. "I'm not doing work for Beca," she informs Chloe. "Beca can quit being lazy and do her own job." She won't help Beca. She'll be civilized and speak to her later at the bonfire. But she won't do whatever work Beca doesn't deem worthy of her own time. No. She won't. She folds her arms across her chest, propping the door open with her shoulder, and narrows her eyes at Chloe's back.

"Beca has a million jobs to do this week," Chloe sticks up for her. "We can do this one thing for her."

"You mean you can do it," Aubrey replies. Chloe signed them up for this job; Chloe can do it herself. She turns and walks over to the sink then turns on the water. It only takes a brief glance around for her to locate dish soap and a sponge. She grabs them both and begins to wash off the dishes that Chloe left abandoned.

Chloe turns around to face her again. "Aubrey, that's what the people who work here are for." She walks over to the sink and grabs Aubrey by the elbow, but Aubrey nudges her away. She slides her arms around Aubrey's waist instead. "This is going to be fun," she insists. That's what she keeps saying about the week in general.

Aubrey turns around slightly, holding a sponge in one hand and a glass in the other. "I'm not having fun here, Chloe," she points out in case Chloe can't see that. A few minutes of picking flowers doesn't make up for their bathroom mirror being turned into a horror movie prop. "I just want to survive the week. This is Beca's fault, and I'm not putting my time and effort into something she should be doing herself."

Chloe nods. "Okay." She pulls back. She gives Aubrey's arm a squeeze then lets go of her. She smirks and leans in so her face is only inches away from Aubrey's cheek. "But if you change your mind, I'll be on the other side of the kitchen." She gives her a light swat on the bottom then walks away.

The glass Aubrey is holding nearly slips out of her grip. She groans and considers snapping at Chloe to stop doing that – but then she'd probably stop doing it. She shoves the sponge inside the glass and washes it then rinses it out. Chloe rattles things around across the room as Aubrey cleans up their mess. She'll probably be cleaning up whatever mess Chloe is making now as well. She grimaces in irritation. She places the last clean dish on the dish rack to dry then wipes her hands off on a towel as she turns to face Chloe.

Chloe lines up five miniature containers of cake frosting samples across one of the counters.

Aubrey eyes the frosting and furrows her brows. She's tempted to ask what Chloe is doing, but she holds her tongue. She doesn't even want to know what Beca asked them to do. Really, she doesn't.

The curiosity is like an itch just waiting to be scratched.

Chloe turns around and hoists herself up onto the counter. She picks up the first container and peels off the lid. "Beca wants me to choose an icing for her cake," she says absently and places the lid beside her. "Are you  _sure_ you don't want to help? I know how much you like chocolate. You steal all of my Hershey's Kisses out of the cupboard."

Aubrey's lips twitch. It's not as though she can deny it. They don't exactly live with anyone else who could be the culprit. "You steal all of my stuff," she shoots back.

"I do not," Chloe denies it. "Your food is disgusting. Those health bar things you buy taste like paper."

"You wouldn't know what they taste like if you didn't steal them," Aubrey replies smugly.

Chloe opens her mouth like she's going to counteract that statement then closes it again and guiltily bites her lip. "Sometimes I don't have time for breakfast," she explains. Aubrey thinks if Chloe woke up earlier, that wouldn't be an issue. Chloe shakes her head and seems to brush off the topic as she looks down into her frosting container. She's about to dip her fingers into it when Aubrey realizes it's hazelnut flavored.

"Chloe, stop!" Aubrey blurts out immediately. "You can't eat that."

Chloe's head snaps up. "Why not?" She looks at Aubrey then down at the frosting again. "It's just icing," she sputters and Aubrey can tell that her tone got to her.

Aubrey steps forward and snatches the container out of her hand. She takes the lid as well so Chloe doesn't touch it again. "Do you  _want_  to break out in hives?" she inquires and holds up the container so the flavor is at Chloe's eye-level. "Or, worse, for your throat to close up? For serious, Chloe, you need to look at things before you put them in your mouth." She doesn't mean to snap, but her concern gets the best of her – and then it's too late to change her tone. "You didn't even pack an EpiPen."

Chloe narrows her eyes to read the container then makes a face at it. "Aubrey, you need to relax," she replies calmly. "I don't even react that badly unless I eat a whole lot of it." She pauses. "How do you know I didn't pack any EpiPens? I have two in my bag."

"Well, you were just about to eat a whole lot of it." Aubrey tosses the lid and container in the trash. "And because I packed them." She picks up the other containers on the counters and looks over the ingredients. By now, she usually just automatically knows what contains hazelnuts and what doesn't, but it doesn't hurt to check. One container contains peanuts and another has a simple 'May Contain Traces of Nuts' warning. She determines they're both fine and nudges them back over to Chloe. It makes life easier that out of the entire tree nut family, Chloe somehow manages to be an oddball who is only allergic to  _one_  kind. Most people with nut allergies are allergic to several.

Chloe picks up the chocolate peanut butter frosting and pries off the lid. She tosses the lid on the counter then dips two fingers into the frosting.

Aubrey wrinkles her nose and tries to locate a spoon for her. "You just had your hands in the dirt outside, and now you're going to lick them off?" She doesn't bother to mask her disgust as Chloe sucks the frosting off of her fingers.

Chloe leans her head back and accidentally hits it on the cupboard door behind her. "This is so good," she murmurs as she pulls her fingers back out of her mouth.

"That's disgusting," Aubrey replies.

Chloe licks the frosting off of her lips then looks at Aubrey and smirks. "My fingers have been in more interesting places than the dirt, and you didn't care if I licked them off then." She winks at Aubrey. Aubrey's face flushes fifty shades of red. Chloe places the container on the counter then picks up another sample and uses her fingers to try that one as well.

"Use a spoon, Chloe," Aubrey sputters. She tries not to focus on Chloe's fingers in her mouth. She has to look away from her. Her mind drifts and she tries to get it back on track. Too many times has Chloe licked off her fingers after – okay, that's not fair. She clenches her jaw and thinks hard about work. Her job is about as big of a turn-off as something can be. Getting stuck in traffic while on coffee runs is not even remotely sexy. Filing papers is not attractive. Filling out-

"Try this one." Chloe shoves one of the containers too close to Aubrey's face. "You washed your hands."

Aubrey presses her lips together and leans her head back. "I'm not doing that." She places her fingers on the edge of the container and pushes it away from her. "I'm going to find a spoon." If she's going to give in, she's at least going to eat like a normal person. She frowns and eyes all of the drawers that could potentially contain silverware.

Chloe lowers the container to her lap and also looks at the drawers. "I have a better idea," she blurts out a few seconds later. She lowers herself down off the counter and sticks one of her fingers in the frosting.

Aubrey sighs and turns to face her again. She's not even hungry. They just ate breakfast, for crying out loud. "Chloe…" Her words catch in her throat when she realizes the mischievous look Chloe is giving her. "Chloe…" she tries again, warningly this time.

Chloe ignores her. She tilts her head to the side, revealing her neck, and slides the frosting across the smooth expanse of skin. "Come  _on_ ," she insists as she places the container down then leans back against the counter with her hands on the edges. She lowers her voice to a seductive tone. "I hear I taste even better with icing." She presses her palms against the counter ledge.

Is it possible for one's mouth to both water and feel stuffed with cotton at the same time? Aubrey can smell the vanilla frosting as she stares at it on Chloe's neck – just above her collarbone. It won't hurt to just taste it…

"Hurry up," Chloe urges. "It's starting to feel weird." She scrunches her face.

"We shouldn't be doing this here," Aubrey points out. She tries to cling to the reason she was so adamant about not taste-testing to begin with. Beca. She tries to think about Beca. She glances around the kitchen, thinking about her lips against Chloe's neck.

"It's just us." Chloe absently rocks herself forward then back against the counter again. "No one is coming in here."

Aubrey draws in a breath and allows her gaze to travel from Chloe's jaw downward. "We should go back to our room," she suggests. She silently curses herself when she realizes how eager her voice sounds.

"Aubrey," Chloe snaps. She sounds mildly amused. She tilts her head a bit more. "My head is going to fall off if you don't get over here  _now_."

Aubrey makes a noise of indecision as she exhales and glances around the empty kitchen one more time. Her heart is pounding as she considers the prospect of someone walking in on them. It's kind of thrilling. But, at the same time, it's the worst thing she can currently think of that could happen to her. She stands stubbornly rooted to her spot for a fraction of a second longer then lets out an irritated, defeated huff as she closes the distance between herself and Chloe. "For serious, Chloe," she hisses in exasperation as she tries to zero in on the frosting.

Chloe groans. "Aubrey, you are ruining the moment," she complains.

Aubrey rolls her eyes then closes them. She draws her tongue across Chloe's neck then closes her lips around the frosting and tenderly kisses it off of her. It's better she than she expected – and she went at it with relatively high expectations. But the taste is nothing compared to the gasp that escapes Chloe's lips and the way her back arches away from the counter – her hips pressing against Aubrey's hips. She peppers small kisses across Chloe's neck, licking the frosting off her lips between them. Her reasoning for being hesitant begins to fade.

Chloe takes more frosting and makes a trail of it up her neck – which Aubrey diligently followers with her tongue until she reaches Chloe's mouth. The vanilla blends in with the peanut butter frosting Chloe had earlier – along with the intoxicating taste that is unique to Chloe. Chloe parts Aubrey's lips with her tongue and Aubrey presses her back against the counter. She briefly tries to comprehend how Chloe lured her into this (again) but gets distracted when Chloe wraps a leg around her legs and pulls her in closer. They almost fall back onto the counter but Chloe's elbows stop them. One of the containers gets knocked onto the floor by Chloe's arm.

"Wait." Chloe pulls back slightly then eases them both upright. She crosses her arms in front of her then pulls her shirt up over her head and drops it on the counter behind her. Her daisy chain stays intact.

Aubrey's eyes nearly bug out of her head. "Chloe!" she whines and glances at the door. She tries not to glance at the black lace bra Chloe is wearing, because she knows it will weaken her resistance.

"Does it look like anyone is coming in here, Aubrey?" Chloe asks. "Live a little bit. We're on vacation."

Chloe keeps saying that, but it doesn't feel like vacation. Aubrey shakes her head. "Vacation does not mean having sex in random places." She tries to keep her voice down. How many times has she said that in the past? And since when does vacation mean having sex at all? The shower should have been a one-time thing.

"It kind of does," Chloe replies. She reaches behind her and grabs the vanilla frosting. She stares at it and bites down on her lower lip for a moment before grinning and drawing a heart just above her cleavage with it. She smirks and puts the container back down then licks the excess frosting off her finger. "Maybe we should just stop talking," she suggests after she pulls her finger out of her mouth.

Aubrey frowns. "I'm not going to stop talking," she replies and shakes her head. She's torn between Chloe and the potential of being caught – and it's becoming distressing. She shouldn't have let it get to a point where Chloe took her shirt off. "I'm for serious here, Chloe, what if someone comes in?"

"Then lock the door," Chloe replies. She sounds like she's beginning to get irritated.

Aubrey glances back at the door. "There is no lock," she points out. "Why can't we do this back at our-"

"Shhh." Chloe presses a finger to Aubrey's lips.

Did Chloe just shush her? Aubrey scoffs and swats Chloe's hand away from her mouth. She gapes at her in offense. "What the hell, Chloe?"

Chloe briefly gives her an agitated glare before her features slowly begin to soften – starting with confusion in her eyes and ending with the corners of her lips curving downward into a frown. She looks away and grips the counter ledge again then swallows and drops her hands. "I'm sorry," she strains quietly, looking anywhere but Aubrey. She touches her forehead and shakes her head. "That was stupid." She moves her hand a few centimeters away from her head. She exhales a breath and drops her hand back down to her side. She presses her lips together to form a straight line and looks past the ground – momentarily staring at something far away.

Aubrey blinks and tries to process the last sixty seconds. Her thought process doesn't go far past wanting to touch Chloe and waiting for the moment in which the door is bound to open. She looks back at the door and bounces lightly on her heels – impatient with herself as she tries to weigh her options. Out of the corner of her eye, she can see Chloe staring at the floor – looking rather revolted by her own actions. "Screw it," Aubrey whispers under her breath. She turns around and presses Chloe back against the counter then squats down and traces warm kisses around the frosting heart on Chloe's chest. She can feel Chloe's actual heart beating against her lips.

"You don't have to do that." Chloe tries to back up, but there's nowhere to go. She's pinned between Aubrey and the counter. "We can go back to the room. I was being st-"

Aubrey stands up straight and kisses her hard on the lips to shut her up. Chloe hums against Aubrey's mouth and rests her hands on Aubrey's sides – under her shirt. Aubrey gasps slightly as Chloe's nails rake lightly across her skin. She nudges Chloe's legs apart with her knee then leans forward and slides her thigh between them. Chloe kisses her harder and rolls her hips against Aubrey's leg for friction. There's almost a desperation in the movement. Aubrey keeps Chloe trapped in the space between herself and the counter and raises her leg up against Chloe's center. Chloe grinds down against her and lets out a drawn out moan.

Aubrey doesn't hear the door open but she feels a cold draft against her heated skin. She almost thinks nothing of it.

"Dude!"

Aubrey jolts back away from Chloe at the sound of Beca's voice. Chloe accidentally bites Aubrey's lip then knocks the frosting containers off the counter as she stands up straight. Aubrey spins around to face Beca and _Jesse._

"Oh my god," Beca continues, staring at the two of them.

Jesse has ducked his head and is looking at the floor. "Looks like they have a head-start on our honeymoon," he murmurs – definitely more entertained than Beca is.

Aubrey tugs down her shirt where she realizes it's riding up and straightens her posture – attempting to look at least slightly put together. "It's not what it looks like," she gives the statement enough confidence that maybe they'll believe her. But, no, it's obvious that it is exactly what it looks like. Her face feels like it's burning. Her entire body is flushed with embarrassment. She has to remind herself to breathe. She tries to side-glance at Chloe, but she can't seem to take her eyes off the spot on the wall just behind Beca's head.

"Do you two have sex everywhere?" Beca demands. She steps forward and begins to pick up the frosting containers. "Don't answer that," she replies to her own question before Aubrey can even process what she asked.

"Not  _everywhere_ ," Chloe answers anyway. She smiles. "Just most places. Convincing Aubrey to be an exhibitionist is kind of my thing."

Jesse snorts then tries to cover it with a cough.

"Chloe!" Aubrey chokes and turns to look at her. She frantically tries to think of a way to extract herself from this situation. Jesse is blocking the door.

"What?" Chloe mouths. "It's hot." She shifts around then awkwardly grabs the bottom of her shorts and tries to pull them down so they're not riding up. Beca and Jesse both arch a brow at her and Aubrey kicks her in the shin to make her stop. Chloe folds her arms. "You know, you're always welcome to join us," she extends the offer to Beca.

Beca's head snaps up and she freezes – just staring at her. Aubrey stares at her as well, gaping slightly. Did she forget Jesse was in the room? There is suddenly enough tension in the air to smother someone. But only Aubrey and Beca seem to feel it.

"I don't think Beca's into that," Jesse breaks the silence with a light chuckle. Aubrey can't determine whether the laughter is from amusement or nervousness. "Maybe we should go, Bec."

"Yeah." Beca places the containers on the counter next to Aubrey. She doesn't look at Chloe or Aubrey as she makes her way back toward the door.

"No, you know, I want to know why Beca isn't into that anymore," Chloe says calmly. She tightens her arms across her chest. "I mean, she seemed pretty into it that time in-"

"Are you being serious right now?" Beca spins around to face Chloe again. "You're going to do this right now? In front of Jesse?"

Aubrey doesn't like where this is heading – at all. Her gaze flashes back and forth between Chloe and Beca. "Chloe, we need to leave," she states seriously. She grabs Chloe by the elbow to lead her to the door before this entire thing can explode in their faces.

Chloe turns to the side and knocks Aubrey's hand away. "I don't see why we should have anything to hide, Aubrey," she retorts.

"There's a difference between not hiding something and being inappropriate about it, Chloe," Aubrey tries to bring light to what Chloe's saying. "We're going back to our room." It's more of an order than anything else. They need to leave before a fight happens.

Chloe turns around and snatches her shirt off the counter – wringing it tightly around her hands rather than putting it on.

"You still let her talk to you like that," Beca takes the conversation in a new direction. She almost sounds amused behind her irritation. "Unbelievable."

"Aca-scuse me?" Aubrey's voice goes up an octave and she turns to face Beca. She's the one trying to help – trying to protect Chloe. "What is that supposed to mean?"

Beca puts her hands up and takes a step back. Chloe doesn't say anything.

"Look, maybe we should just…" Jesse tries to diffuse them, but Aubrey doesn't care what he has to say. None of them appear to be listening to him.

"Let's just go," Chloe mumbles. She looks around then shakes her head and walks toward the door – brushing past Jesse on her way out.

Of course it's  _now_  that they're leaving – not when Aubrey suggested they should. She raises her arms then slaps them down against her sides as she walks with determination after Chloe.

Jesse catches Aubrey by the arm as she's about to step out the door. "Hey, are you okay after earlier?" he asks.

Aubrey rips her arm away. "Now is not the time," she snaps. She shoves the door open with both hands as it's swinging shut then continues trailing after Chloe. Chloe doesn't wait for her; she just stomps off like a child. Aubrey rolls her eyes.

"We're not going through this again, Chloe," Aubrey warns her. After that, she has a feeling she's going to be discussing much more than just photographs and mirrors at the bonfire later. She can kiss her desire to have a _civil_  conversation with Beca goodbye.


	19. Chapter Nineteen

**Arrhythmia**

* * *

  
_Come up to meet you,_   
_Tell you I'm sorry._   
_You don't know how lovely you are._   
_I had to find you,_   
_Tell you I need you,_   
_Tell you I set you apart._   
_\- Coldplay_   


* * *

"Chloe, stop!"

Chloe marches around the side of the inn with her arms folded tightly across her chest – Aubrey trailing right behind her. She twists the handle to their room and pushes on the door with her shoulder, but it doesn't budge. She swallows thickly and places her other hand flat on the door as she tries to open it again.

Aubrey pulls the room key out of her pocket. "What the hell?" she demands an explanation for what just happened. She's barely able to contain her fury. It burns her insides like she swallowed a fireball. "Do you realize that Beca is getting married and you just asked her to have sex with us? In front of her  _fiancé_  nonetheless? How did you expect her to react to that?" She has to take a second to breathe. "What were you even thinking, Chloe?"

"What do you want to hear, Aubrey?" Chloe spins away from the door to face her and holds her arms out away from her sides. "That I  _wasn't_ thinking?" The tears welling up in her eyes threaten to leak down her face. "Fine. I wasn't thinking."

Aubrey steps up beside her and unlocks the door. She turns her head and meets Chloe's gaze before she opens the door. "It seems to me that you were thinking exceptionally clearly," she states then walks inside. The realization of the thought doesn't hit her until it's said out loud. She tosses the key on the table beside the door then turns around to look at Chloe again. Tears begin stinging her own eyes, but she excels at holding them back. If anything gives away the intensity of her emotions, she knows it will be her fingers picking at the skin next to her thumb nails. She can't seem to stop once she starts doing it. She swallows hard and tries to deny to herself that Chloe might have been using her in order to get to Beca.

Chloe spins around to face her fully and remains standing just outside the door with her hands on her hips. Her lips part and she lets out a breath of what looks a lot like disbelief after Aubrey speaks. "You think I knew she was going to walk in there with Jesse?" Her chin trembles and she presses her lips together and glances around outside.

"I think you knew  _she_  was going to walk in there," Aubrey answers as though she's confident about her assumption. She questions it in her head. Panics. Then forces herself not to think anymore. She clenches her teeth to keep the corners of her lips from twitching and stares hard at Chloe – just waiting for Chloe to confirm her fear.

Chloe drops one arm to her side and leans heavily on the opposite side – staring off into the distance for a moment. She finally straightens up and turns to face Aubrey, folding her arms across her chest in the process. She sniffles and doesn't bother to wipe away the first tear as it glides down her cheek then sticks to her chin. Aubrey has to fight the urge to wipe it away herself. "I wanted to feel good, Aubrey," she murmurs in just above a whisper. She swallows hard and shakes her head then steps inside and closes the door. "You know what, that's not important to you right now." She wipes at her chin with the back of her hand and starts making her way toward the bedroom.

Aubrey stares at the door for a moment, not understanding what she said. It doesn't matter. This argument isn't over. "You can't just walk away, Chloe," she states matter-of-factly. Her mouth is drawn taut with anxiety and she tenses her shoulders – continuing to pick at the skin next to her nails. She doesn't want to hear that Chloe used her to get to Beca, but she has to. She has to  _know_.

Chloe spins around immediately. "I wanted to feel good!" she repeats and swings one of her hands out to the side – accidentally smacking her knuckles hard against the wall. She immediately draws her hand back in and holds it against her chest, dropping her shirt and pressing her knuckles into the palm of her other hand. The tears flooding her eyes start to tumble down in waves – gathering at her chin then falling and sliding down her chest. Aubrey doesn't even have a chance to ask if she's okay. She just eyes Chloe's hand in concern.

"Beca asked me to choose an icing for her  _wedding_  cake," Chloe continues in a brittle voice that wavers with almost every word. "I thought if I could convince you to make me feel good while I was doing it, I could…I thought…I…" She does that thing again where she tries to make words but they just don't form. She gives up quickly on trying to finish her sentence. "So, no, Aubrey, I didn't know she was going to walk in." Aubrey expects her to walk away now, but she doesn't. "There wasn't some secret motivation. Can you just  _accept_  that sometimes I need you?"

The room fills with silence. Aubrey diverts her gaze to the ground – briefly thinking on Chloe's words. No definitive answer to her question comes to mind. She looks up again and just stares at her, waiting for her to continue – thinking maybe if she stays quiet, Chloe will say something that will convince her that those words are the truth.

Chloe lowers her hands with her knuckles still pressed into her palm. She stares off to the side for a moment before turning in Aubrey's direction again. She doesn't look at her – just looks at a spot off to the right. "That's fine," she says thickly and shakes her head. Aubrey tries to decipher what that means – but it's impossible when she can't figure out what's running through Chloe's mind. It sure doesn't  _seem_  like anything is fine. Chloe turns around without another word and continues making her way to the bedroom.

Aubrey exhales a breath of confused frustration and stares at her back. "You're being ridiculous, Chloe," she lets slip out. "All over some-"

"Don't, Aubrey," Chloe warns her. "Just don't."

xxxxx

_Aubrey puffed out her cheeks and tried to ignore the burning sensation in her eyes as she stared down at the thick law book on the hotel desk. It was nearing two in the morning, Chloe still wasn't back, and she might have had one too many glasses of wine. Or maybe everything just felt blurry because she had been reading for too long. She flipped a page and swallowed the last of the bitter, red liquid then placed her elbow on the table and her head against her hand. Just because it wasn't unusual for her not to be invited out on one of Chloe's dates didn't mean it didn't make her jealous. They were a 'thing' now after all, and that had to give her some sort of right to worry when she was left out. They were a 'thing' – as Chloe had so eloquently put it a few months before. The thought made the corners of Aubrey's lips turn upward into a not-quite-smile. She was still adjusting, but it was hard to deny that she was getting used to being a 'thing' with Chloe Beale and Beca Mitchell. Maybe the infuriating alt-girl wasn't quite as bad as Aubrey once assumed. She felt an element of pride for beginning to accept that. She closed her book and rubbed her eyes with the heels of her hands._

_The door opened then closed again with a clicking noise as Aubrey was still scrubbing at her eyes. She dropped her arms to the desk and folded them across her book. "Eleven at night does not mean two in the morning, Chloe," she scolded lightly and looked up to see Chloe fumbling with the metal lock. Her brows furrowed as Chloe couldn't quite latch it in place. Her hands were all over the lock, trying to slide it in the wrong direction. "Are you drunk?" She placed her hands flat on the desk and slowly pushed herself into a standing position. "Chloe?"_

_"I'm not drunk," Chloe slurred. She lowered her hand from the lock and stared up at it for a moment before turning around. "I'm just drunk." She dropped her keycard on the floor next to the table beside the door then clumsily knelt over and tried to pick it back up – struggling to get a grip on it._

_Aubrey walked over and snatched the keycard up off the floor then placed it on the table. She grabbed Chloe by the arm and helped her straighten herself back up. The stench of Tequila and cigarette smoke clinging to Chloe's hair and clothes was enough to make Aubrey feel sick. "No, you're not drunk. You're completely wasted," she pointed out – assessing her uncoordinated movements and the glassy look in her eyes. "Tell me you did not drive back here."_

_"Aubrey, I'm fine," Chloe stressed each word and smiled up at her. "I just drove like twenty miles." She stepped forward and pressed up against her. Her breath reeked of alcohol and Aubrey had to lean back. "That's not even a lot of miles. I'm not even a lot of drunk. Just like a little bit of drunk." She made a 'little bit' motion with her thumb and pointer finger. "It's fine. Aubrey, it's fine."_

_"Are you insane?!" Aubrey took a step back. Chloe nearly fell forward. "I can't believe Beca let you drive like this. You should have called me, Chloe. Or called a cab." Aubrey's hands began to shake – although the situation was still unfathomable and she couldn't quite accept it. "Did Beca drive like this too?" she demanded. She was going to kill Beca if she wasn't already in the process of running her car off the side of the road. "This is ridiculous, Chloe. It is ridiculous that either of you would think it's okay for you to-"_

_"You talk too much," Chloe complained and shook her head. Her lower lip jutted out in a pout. "You're making my head hurt." She nearly tripped over her own feet as she backed up toward the desk where Aubrey had been studying. She grabbed the bottle of wine and tipped it against her lips._

_Aubrey stomped forward and snatched the bottle back out of her hands. "What is wrong with you?" She glared at her and placed the bottle back down on the desk._

_"Nothing," Chloe insisted. "It's fine. I'm fine. Everything's fine." Tears began to well up in her eyes. "It's all fine. It's fine." She walked back up to Aubrey and closed the distance between them again – their chests and stomachs pressed together, the tips of her fingers resting against the waistband of Aubrey's pajama bottoms. Aubrey grabbed them and pushed them away before Chloe could slip them into her pants. There would be an explanation before there would be sex – if there would be sex._

_"For serious, Chloe…"_

_"Beca changed her mind," Chloe blurted out. Her hands came to rest on Aubrey again and she played with the buttons on her shirt – not trying to unbutton them, just picking at them. She looked down and off to the side. Her lower lip began to tremble and tears began to slowly leak from her eyes._

_Aubrey was definitely going to kill Beca. "She stood you up?" she asked and looked toward her phone – tempted to call her right there and then. "We drove all the way here because she wanted to see you and she stood you up?"_

_Chloe swallowed thickly and shook her head._

_Aubrey blinked. "Well then what…" Before she could finish speaking, Chloe stepped forward and wrapped her arms around her. She tucked her face against Aubrey's shoulder and choked over a quiet sob as she entangled her fingers in the fabric of Aubrey's shirt. Aubrey finally took a moment to assess the situation – alcohol, recklessness, tears. She diverted her gaze to the floor and tried to ignore the sinking feeling in her chest. The sensation could only be a fraction of what Chloe felt. She stared downward, trying to process things._

_Chloe mumbled against her shoulder – but between the alcohol and her voice being muffled by Aubrey's shirt, Aubrey couldn't make out any of the words other than 'Jesse'. That one word was enough. Chloe's shoulders began to vibrate with shaky sobs and she pressed in closer to Aubrey, warm tears soaking through the fabric of Aubrey's shirt. She lifted a hand and twisted the ends of Aubrey's hair around her fingers._

Beca had changed her mind about them. About her. About Chloe.  _It finally sunk in. The feeling that it gave Aubrey was foreign and she immediately turned it into rage in an effort to understand it. Her chest tightened and she slowly wrapped her arms around Chloe._

_Beca wasn't as bad as Aubrey had once assumed. She was worse._

xxxxxx

Aubrey steps into the bedroom carrying a Ziploc bag filled with ice that she retrieved from the kitchen. Beca and Jesse had fortunately not still been there when she got there. She shifts the bag from one hand to the other and wipes the dampness off on her shirt then sits down on the bed next to Chloe and offers it to her. She tries to glance at Chloe's hand (but Chloe is still clutching it) then looks at the wall in front of her. "You need to put the ice on it, Chloe," she directs her when she doesn't move.

Chloe lifts her head at the sound of Aubrey's voice and momentarily gives her a dazed look before glancing down at the bag. She reaches over and slowly takes it from her then flinches as she presses it against her knuckles. A fresh wave a tears soaks her cheeks and she swallows thickly. She's still for a moment then inches closer to Aubrey until their arms are touching.

Aubrey looks down at her when she feels the bed move. She sighs and takes Chloe's hand, lifting the ice back up again so she can get a look at the damage. Nothing is bruised or swelled too badly. She places Chloe's hand back down flat then moves the ice over it again. Chloe holds the ice in place and stares at the floor. She leans over against Aubrey's side then sniffles and tucks her face against her. Aubrey doesn't say anything. She doesn't know what to say.

"You know it hurts when you do that, right?" Chloe whispers after a moment.

"Do  _what_ , Chloe?" Aubrey jerks away from her and turns to face her at the accusation. She'll be damned if this gets twisted on her.

Chloe shakes her head and looks off to the side. "Nothing," she dismisses it in a whisper. She shifts so she's sitting cross-legged on the bed and drops the ice on her lap to wipe her face with her palms. She turns and adjusts the pillow on Aubrey's side of the bed then lies down on her side and places the ice back on her hand. "Forget it."

Aubrey looks at the floor – realizing too late that her voice had sounded way too harsh. She doesn't bother trying to make a recovery that's sure to fail. Chloe doesn't seem intent on speaking either. The room is silent except for Chloe's occasional sniffling and the longer Aubrey sits there, the angrier at this weekend she becomes. She's sick of fighting. They rarely do it at home anymore. She shakes her head and pushes herself to her feet. "I'm going out," she announces – although she has no idea where she plans to go. But if Chloe wants her to return, she has her number. But knowing Chloe, she'll probably just sleep. Aubrey is envious that Chloe can just fall asleep for awhile and then wake up good as new again.

"Oh." Chloe stares at the pillow and nods half-heartedly. She grabs her bear and tucks it against her face then uses its fur to wipe away a few tears. "Okay."

Aubrey stares at her.

"It's okay." Chloe sniffles. "Go."

Aubrey nods as she's dismissed. She gives her once last glance then turns and heads toward the door. Chloe's faint sobs immediately begin resonating through the walls once Aubrey is out of the room, but Aubrey realizes all too painfully that she can't fix this. For a moment, she almost wishes she could be some alt-girl with her mad-lib beats who wouldn't be so useless to Chloe rather than Aubrey  _Posen_. (Aren't Posens supposed to be useful to everyone though?) But as she listens to Chloe cry, she realizes that the last person anyone should want to be right now is Beca.


	20. Twenty

**Arrhythmia**

* * *

  
_Come up to meet you,_   
_Tell you I'm sorry._   
_You don't know how lovely you are._   
_I had to find you,_   
_Tell you I need you,_   
_Tell you I set you apart._   
_\- Coldplay_   


* * *

There is a lingering fear that comes with the events of the morning that doesn't fully set in until Aubrey is outside and trying to decide what to do with herself. Her senses feel like they've been forced into high alert as she strains to hear music or to see anything out of the ordinary. Out of all the places on the island to escape to, she settles for sitting on the steps leading up to the inn - partially because she doesn't want to be wandering around alone, but mostly because the overpowering floral scent that surrounds the building has already become familiar and it makes her feel slightly less like something bad is going to happen. But 'slightly less' is only slightly lower on a paranoia spectrum. But is it really paranoia if Inductive Reasoning is taken into account?

Someone has gone out of their way to try to scare her, therefor they will continue to go out of their way until she is visibly scared.

But Inductive Reasoning is not always logically valid because it is not always accurate to assume that a general principle is correct.

Aubrey straightens her posture and stares straight ahead at a tree, trying to think of something that will stop her from thinking in general. She felt safer with Chloe, but going back to their room is not an option. Not until this whole Beca-ordeal is forgotten about again. Beca is as much of a threat as the blood on the bathroom mirror; and the thought leaves her both furious and uncomfortable. She should  _not_  be viewing Beca Mitchell as a threat. Beca doesn't even have any promising qualities. But she's not exactly jealous of who Beca is. That would be ridiculous. She doesn't know why she's focusing on something so illogical. She shouldn't be jealous at all. Chloe might like Beca, but Beca is getting married to Jesse. And it's not as if Chloe belongs to Aubrey.

She taps her fingernails against the stairs to the rhythm of I Saw The Sign - making sure not to miss a beat so that she doesn't have to start over. She shouldn't even be thinking about Beca to begin with. Compared to 'crazy' written on her bathroom mirror and Wedding of the Winds playing through her phone, Beca is irrelevant. She's nothing more than a minor irritation. But, still, Aubrey keeps thinking about her. She focuses on tapping - the lyrics becoming a mantra in her head. She wishes should could just shut her mind down for a moment and reboot. It's an all too familiar desire.

She stops tapping long enough to press her fingers against her temples then slides her hands down her cheeks and lowers them so she's gripping the edge of the step she's sitting on. Her nails clack against the cement again - this time in just a simple, steady rhythm.

_Tap. Tap. Tap._

_This is pathetic._  Aubrey rolls her eyes at herself and pushes herself back up onto her feet. Her problem isn't with Beca (or with anyone for that matter); it's that she's caring too much. _She_  is the problem. She brushes her hands off on her shorts and steps down off the stairs then paces back and forth in front of them. She's making mountains out of molehills when there are more pressing matters she should be thinking about - for instance, what kind of case her boss will be placed on when she returns home. She bites her thumbnail and continues walking back and forth, thinking about all the possibilities. Not thinking about Beca or Chloe or ominous music or deer. She is  _not_  thinking about them.

She considers texting the other intern, Brian, to ask if she's missing out on anything interesting - but she doesn't. She briefly wonders if he's caving under the strenuous workload without her there to handle half of it. She can't contact him when he could be busy. She chastises herself for even thinking about it and turns to walk in the other direction again. She manages to take one step before something with enough force to nearly send her toppling backward crashes into her legs. Aubrey lets out a small yelp and grabs the railing at the bottom of the steps to keep herself upright.

Before she can get a look at her assailant she looks up to see Amy half-jogging toward her, panting and sweating. "Sorry!" Amy gasps and comes to a halt a few feet away, placing her hands on her knees. "It keeps getting away." She makes a vague hand motion then bends forward and resumes trying to catch her breath.

_It._  Aubrey blinks then looks down, her hand still gripping the rail so tightly that her knuckles are turning white. Her heart slows back to normal when Stacie's daughter stares back up at her and grins from ear to ear. She stiffly unlatches her fingers from the rail and flexes them a few times. "You say 'excuse me' when you run into someone," she directs the little girl lightly and places a hand on her head. It's never too early to teach kids manners.

"Oopsie," Sophia offers.  _Close enough_. She grips the hems of Aubrey's shorts then cranes her neck to glance back at Amy. A hysterical giggle escapes her lips and she circles around so she's behind Aubrey and throws her arms around one of Aubrey's legs, nearly knocking her over again.

Aubrey makes an 'oof' noise and turns in a full circle trying to keep track of her, but Sophia just laughs harder and circles around with her. Aubrey stops again and looks at Amy. "Where's Stacie?" she asks curiously.

Amy looks up. "Some scavenger hunt," she answers - still breathless. She walks over to the stairs and tosses a butterfly-patterned bag onto the ground then sits down on the step beside it. "I should've kept up on that cardio."

"Kids will keep you in shape," Aubrey agrees.

"A Mee!" Sophia frees Aubrey's leg and bounds over to Amy. She launches her upper half onto Amy's lap. "Up!"

Amy tilts her head downward and stares at Sophia in exhaustion. "You're too much for me, Kid," she denies the request. She looks up at Aubrey. "Aubrey-"

Aubrey looks down at her as she speaks, but Amy is cut off by Sophia.

"A Bee!" Sophia shrieks and spins around to face her. She thrusts her arms in the air. "Up!"

Aubrey complies. She glances behind her at the stairs then sits down on the same step as Amy. Sophia clambers over to her and Aubrey lifts her up and positions her on her lap. "How long are you babysitting for?"

"Til the bonfire." Amy leans back with her elbows on the next step and looks over at Aubrey and Sophia. "Stacie's going somewhere with Cynthia-Rose and Donald's with Bumper."

Aubrey gives a half-nod to acknowledge the answer and looks down at Sophia.

"What dat?" Sophia asks.

"What's what?" Aubrey asks.

"Dat." Sophia points to the daisy chain around her neck and pokes at one of the flowers with her pointer finger.

Aubrey glances down to see what she's pointing at. "Those are daisies," she explains then looks at Sophia. "Can you say 'daisies'?"

Sophia stops jabbing the flowers with her finger and stares at Aubrey.

"Daisies," Aubrey repeats.

Sophia grabs the chain and lifts it up, looking under the flowers with curiosity. "Daisies!" she announces. Aubrey grins and lifts her chin with a sense of pride.

"Good job, Kid." Amy reaches over to fist bump Sophia. Sophia looks at her fist then high-fives it.

Aubrey smirks and settles back against the step behind her - resting in the same position as Amy, propping herself up with her elbows. Sophia turns and kneels on Aubrey's legs, leaning over her shoulder, and roughly tugs her hair out of the way so she can examine the flowers on the back of the daisy chain. Aubrey reaches around her head and pulls her hair over her shoulder.

Amy stares at her incredulously. "How do you do that?" she asks.

Aubrey turns her head (which unfortunately places her hair in a spot vulnerable to Sophia's fingers again) and lowers her arm back down. "Do what?" she inquires and furrows her brows in confusion. She tilts her head as Sophia accidentally yanks down on her hair. It doesn't really bother her.

Amy lifts a hand and waves toward Sophia. "Convince her to stay still for five seconds," she elaborates. "She's been on speed for the past hour."

Aubrey blinks. She looks at Sophia (who seems to be thoroughly engaged by the flowers) then returns her gaze to Amy and just looks at her. "I had siblings," she tries to explain it. They often acted the same way around her - until they became of age where they learned to hate her, of course.

"Me too." Amy sits up. "I used to run away from them because they'd pull my underwear up over my head." She pauses. "Got a little awkward when I stopped wearing underwear."

Aubrey wrinkles her nose and tries to determine how to respond to that.

Amy pushes herself to her feet. She looks behind her then down at Aubrey and Sophia. "Do you think you could...?" she lets her voice trail off.

"Could what?" Aubrey asks and frowns. She isn't a mind-reader, and it's a pet-peeve of hers when people assume that she is. Sophia yanks her hair again and Aubrey reaches behind her head and gently tries to untangle it from the little girl's fingers.

"Ehhh." Amy looks at Sophia.

Aubrey followers her gaze. "I could watch her?" she makes an assumption. It's clearly phrased as a question, but Amy apparently chooses to see it as a statement.

"You're the best." Amy points at Aubrey. She looks at Sophia. "Later, Gator."

Sophia spins around. Aubrey doesn't have time to respond to Amy. She grabs Sophia by the waist until she's situated on her lap again so she doesn't fall."A'fer while, Dile!" Sophia responds loudly enough that the entire island probably hears her.

"Amy!" Aubrey tries to get her attention as Amy turns and starts 'vertical running' away. "I have  _things_  to do today," she lies - but Amy is practically already out of earshot. Aubrey huffs and turns her attention to Sophia.

Sophia flashes a toothy grin and entangles her fingers back in Aubrey's hair. "Hi, A Bee!"

 


	21. Twenty-One

 

**Arrhythmia**

* * *

  
_Come up to meet you,_   
_Tell you I'm sorry._   
_You don't know how lovely you are._   
_I had to find you,_   
_Tell you I need you,_   
_Tell you I set you apart._   
_\- Coldplay_

* * *

"Okay," Aubrey hums in a tone that she hopes doesn't sound annoyed and grips Sophia's hand with one hand as she tries to use the other to lift her diaper bag and swing it over her shoulder. "We're going to find your mom." And by that, she means she's going to find Amy along the way and Amy is going to find Stacie - and either take Sophia or return her to where she belongs. She manages to get the strap of the bag over her head without letting go of Sophia (a skill she learned from school while trying to carry ten books and a shoulder bag) then looks in both directions - trying to determine which way to go.

Amy clearly didn't go to her room inside the inn, unless she sneaked in the back, and since the possibility of her circling around to throw Aubrey off her trail is -

"Why?" Sophia cuts off Aubrey's thoughts.

Aubrey blinks and looks down at her. It's a good question actually, and she has to take a second to put some thought into it. It's not as though she has anything better to do on this god-forsaken island than babysit. It's not like she minds kids. Sophia is actually rather adorable. But Amy did just dump the kid off on her. It's the principle of the matter. "Because we have to," she explains simply. She gently tugs on Sophia's hand to get her walking then starts in the direction that Amy took off in.

She begins to mentally list all of the places Amy might have gone. The ice cream parlor is definitely one of them. She wonders if she can get more information on the scavenger hunt. Maybe she should -

"Why?" Sophia repeats.

"Because I'm not supposed to be watching you," Aubrey answers. She pulls out her phone and finds Stacie's number. She at least needs to let Stacie know that she has her daughter. She hits the 'call' button then presses the phone to her ear. It rings several times then goes straight to voicemail. She frowns and hangs up then opens up Stacie's number in a text message.

"Why?"

Aubrey stops walking and tries to type with one hand. "Because your mom told Fat Amy to watch you." She impatiently corrects her typos.  _'I have Sophia. Where are you?'_  Send.

"Why?"

That is another good question. Aubrey pauses. Actually, it's the same question. Sophia is just asking the same question over and over. She looks down at her and shakes her head. "I don't know," she replies and starts walking again.

"Why?" Sophia tries to skip along beside her.

Because she's not close enough to the Bellas to be let in on their life decisions - Beca's wedding discluded. Aubrey shakes her head again and decides to change the topic to something more two-year-old friendly. "What's your favorite color?" she asks. She tightens her grip on Sophia's hand for precaution as they walk away from the inn and toward the ice cream parlor.

Sophia hums to herself for a moment before perking up and answering. "Yewwow!" she exclaims.

"I like blue," Aubrey shares matter-of-factly. She dials Amy's number and presses the phone to her ear.

"Like dis?" Sophia points up in the air.

Aubrey looks up at the sky as her phone goes to Amy's voicemail. "That's blue," she confirms and hangs up. She slips her phone into her pocket.

Sophia stops walking and rips a handful of grass out of a crack in the sidewalk - roots and all. "Dis geen," she informs Aubrey and holds the grass out.

The distraction is more welcome than Aubrey would like to admit to herself. She glances at the grass then looks around for more colors. "Red," she points out and points her finger at a nearby stop sign.

Sophia drops the grass then wipes her hand on her pink t-shirt. She tries to tug her hand away from Aubrey's. Aubrey is hesitant for a moment before she concedes and lets her go. Sophia rushes over to another crack in the sidewalk then squats down and pulls out a weed. "White!" She jumps up and turns to face Aubrey, pointing at the flowers on her weed.

Aubrey walks a few more steps and frowns when she can't find anything significant that is a different color than what they've already named. She adjusts the bag so it's not pressing against her collarbone then turns around to face Sophia. The two-year-old lowers herself onto her hands and knees and nearly presses her face against the sidewalk as she examines something on the ground. "Sophia, we have to go," she urges her along.

"No, loocapill'r," Sophia argues.

There was probably a point in time (back when Aubrey was a kid) that she might have understood what Sophia was trying to say. But now, she just scratches her head. "Sophia," she insists.

"No! Loocapill'r!" Sophia lifts her head. She points to the crack in the sidewalk.

It's not as though they're actually in a hurry to be somewhere. Aubrey sighs and lifts the bag over her head as she walks back to where Sophia is kneeling. She places the bag down beside her then squats down on the sidewalk and looks down at a caterpillar inching along across the sidewalk.

"Capill'r," Sophia points out and places her hand down beside it. "Look, A Bee." She lowers her face so her nose is almost touching it.

Aubrey rests her arms on her legs and looks at it. It holds her attention for all of two seconds before just grossing her out with its striped body squirming across the ground. She turns her head and looks up and down the street for any familiar faces. One of the locals glances at her then keeps walking. She sighs and turns her head again as Sophia is picking up the caterpillar. She silently keeps an eye on it to make sure it doesn't get squished. (Cleaning up dead insect off a two-year-old's hands is not her cup of tea.)

The caterpillar squirms between Sophia's thumb and pointer finger. Sophia turns it over a few times then opens her mouth and attempts to stuff it inside.

"Sophia!" Aubrey reacts before she can get the bug past her lips. She tries to knock the caterpillar out of Sophia's hand and it clings to her own in response. Not expecting to actually  _touch_  it, Aubrey squeals in fright and flings it off to the side somewhere while simultaneously clambering back up onto her feet. She shakes her hand then disgustedly wipes it off on her jeans, her heart beating a mile a minute.

Sophia jumps up and takes several steps back. She stamps her feet on the ground a few times and covers her mouth with her hands - muffling giggles.

The panic wears off and Aubrey stares incredulously at Sophia. "You think that's funny?" she asks and folds her arms. Her lower lip juts outward slightly against her will and she does her best to hold back a grin that's threatening to replace the pout.

Sophia grins against her hands and vigorously nods her head.

The corners of Aubrey's lips twitch until they're pressed together in a smile. She picks the bag back up and adjusts the strap on her shoulder then smirks and reaches for Sophia's hands again. "No more bugs," she warns her.

"Okay!" Sophia agrees. She bounces forward and latches back onto Aubrey's hand.

xxxxx

"Ant." Sophia leans down and points to an ant on the sidewalk. "Ant." She leans down again. "Ant. Ant. Ant. Ant. Ant."

Aubrey stops every few steps as Sophia comes to a halt. She estimates that at the rate they're walking, they'll get to the shop sometime within the next four to five hours. That's providing they don't run across an entire colony of ants. Then it could take all day. She heaves an exasperated sigh and pulls her phone out of her pocket again, deciding to text Chloe. Chloe is better with kids than she is.

' _Are you awake?'_

She walks a few more steps as she waits for an answer - but a text never comes. Chloe will probably sleep the rest of the day. Aubrey's phone gets shoved back into her pocket again. "If you hurry up, we can get ice cream," she tries to bribe Sophia.

A loud gasp leaves Sophia's mouth and her lips curve to form an 'o' shape. Before Aubrey can even process the reaction, Sophia yanks on her arm and proceeds to drag her down the street.

Aubrey nearly trips over her own two feet. "Don't run." She draws them to a halt again then proceeds toward the ice cream parlor at a slower pace.

Sophia skips a few times then stares up at Aubrey. "Why?"

 

xxxxx

The bell above the ice cream parlor door jingles as Aubrey pushes the door open and leads Sophia inside. She lets go of her hand once the door has closed then glances around the room. No Amy.

There is a scoff from behind the counter. "It's you again," the worker points out. He shakes the comic book he's holding, peering at Aubrey from over the top of it.

Aubrey's gaze is drawn to him and she rolls her eyes. "The feeling is mutual," she assures him. But after everything that's been happening, she can't really remember why she dislikes him. That's not important though. "Have you seen-"

"No," he cuts her off. He slouches back in his chair and raises his book higher.

The corners of Aubrey's lips twitch. "You don't know what I was going to ask." She grabs Sophia by the back of her shirt as she tries to reach for a bowl of sprinkles on the counter. Sophia looks back at her then reaches out her hands for the bowl and begins to run in place. Aubrey keeps her a safe distance from the counter.

"The answer is still no," he replies. He heaves a heavy, exasperated sigh.

"Listen, you bratty..."

He drops his comic book on the counter and effectively cuts Aubrey's off  _again_  with the loud slap of paper against wood. "There are 'little ears' in the room," he reminds her and looks at Sophia. "Don't scar the child."

Aubrey draws in a deep breath and does her best to hold her tongue. She takes a few more breaths through her nose and narrows her eyes at him - glaring hard. His smug grin only makes her angrier.

"Ice cweam." Sophia stops running and points to the flavor list. She leans her head back as far as it will go and watches Aubrey. "A Bee!" She whines and tries to twist out of her grip.

It's nearly impossible not to cave. She could ignore Sophia's request for ice cream and keep directing disapproval at the boy behind the counter if she really wanted to, but that would just be a waste of her time and energy. "I'll take a small vanilla in a dish, please," she murmurs through clenched teeth, trying to sound as polite as possible - kids learn by example.

Sophia seems to approve of that and tilts her head back down.

The boy climbs to his feet and leans over the counter, peering down at Sophia with a sweet smile (that irks Aubrey). "Do you want sprinkles, Sweetie?" he inquires.

Sophia bounces and eagerly nods her head.

"Yes, please," Aubrey directs her toward the correct response.

"Yes, pwease!" Sophia repeats her.

Aubrey tries to refrain from grinning proudly.

"Sprinkles will be an extra thirty-five cents," the worker informs her.

Her grin turns into a scowl. "Of course, they will be." She keeps a hold on Sophia with one hand and pulls her wallet out of her pocket with the other. She manages to push the zipper open with her thumb then pulls out a five dollar bill and tosses it on the counter. She closes her wallet back up and stuffs it back into her pocket. She taps her fingers along the short edge of the money as she waits for the ice cream.

The worker takes his time swirling the ice cream around in the dish.

Aubrey keeps tapping - the rhythm following the beat of The Sign again. She glances around the shop - taking in the paintings of desserts that line the walls and the jars of ice cream toppings on the shelves. "We're kind of in a hurry," she finally lies - unable to wait through this nonsense any longer. "It doesn't take that long to put ice cream in a dish."

"I was making it with love," the worker replies in a honeyed tone that she knows is meant to bother her. He eases up on the level of the ice cream machine then pulls the dish away.

Aubrey rolls her eyes and rests her hand flat on the counter.

Sophia reaches up and places her hands on the counter then tries to climb up it to see over it. Aubrey holds her in place on the ground.

The worker spoons sprinkles over the ice cream then places the dish on the counter. He tugs the money out from under Aubrey's hand then hits a few buttons on the cash register and offers her her change.

Aubrey grabs Sophia's hands with one hand to keep her from pulling the dish down on herself then takes her change with the other. She double counts it and is about to put it in her pocket when the worker speaks again.

"You're forgetting my tip jar," he points out.

Aubrey lifts her head. "Aca-scuse me?"

He leans over the counter and pats the lid of a large plastic jar decorated with glitter glue. Did he have a five-year-old make that for him?

"That wasn't there yesterday," Aubrey retorts and tightens her grip on the cash. She had no problem with leaving tips - generous tips even. But for serious.

"It's there now." He flops back down onto his seat and picks up his comic book.

Aubrey frowns and shoves her change through the slit in the jar lid. She grabs the dish of ice cream and spins around just as the door to the shop opens.

Aubrey decides that karma is definitely punishing her.

The bartender steps inside and flashes her a smile of acknowledgement. "You know, this is the best place in town besides The Cannery," she comments as she walks past Aubrey and toward the counter. "It has all the tourists in the-"

"Don't talk to the tourist, Nikki," the boy cuts her off. "It's like a stray cat. If you pay attention to it, it will keep coming back." He tosses his book down again then pushes himself to his feet and grabs an ice cream cone.

"It's not surprising you don't have any other customers." Aubrey grabs the ice cream and leads Sophia outside.

 

xxxxx

Aubrey never understands how Chloe makes friends with such ease. It's easier to not understand that than to not understand why Aubrey doesn't make friends in such a way herself. She refuses to acknowledge that if it wasn't for Chloe, she probably wouldn't have friends at all. She can make friends. She just doesn't  _want_  to. After all, what could she gain from friendship with some scrawny boy working at an ice cream shop anyway?

She places the ice cream on the table then lifts Sophia up onto the seat and sits down beside her. She gets a small amount of spoon on the ice cream then hovers it in front of Sophia's mouth.

Sophia looks at the spoon then clamps her lips shut and shakes her head.

"I thought you wanted ice cream," Aubrey says.

Sophia nods.

Aubrey blinks. She moves the spoon slightly closer to Sophia's mouth, but Sophia refuses to open up. "Choo choo?" she attempts and moves the spoon back and forth. It is a train that she's supposed to mimic, right? Or maybe it's an airplane...

What sound does an airplane make? She groans. Aubrey Posen does not mimic public transportation.

"It's going to melt." Aubrey turns on the seat and licks the ice cream off the spoon.

"Mine!" Sophia shrieks and stands up on the seat. She folds her arms tightly across her chest and stamps one of her feet - reminding Aubrey of Chloe. Aubrey almost smirks, but she's too confused to fully appreciate the similarity in their temper tantrums.

Aubrey rolls her eyes. She scoops more ice cream onto the spoon then holds it in front of Sophia's mouth again.

"Gimme." Sophia tries to grab the spoon out of her hand.

Aubrey pulls the spoon back before Sophia can wrestle it out of her grip. "You'll make a mess," she points out. "Just eat it." She tries to avoid Sophia's hands and position the spoon back in front of her mouth.

"No!" Sophia stamps both of her feet. Aubrey grabs her by the shirt with her free hand so that she doesn't fall off the bench.

"Sit down," Aubrey demands firmly. "Now."

"No." Sophia crosses her arms again and tries to stand on her tiptoes - staring stubbornly at Aubrey, almost daring her to enforce her instruction. "I not." She tries to stand up taller again and teeters on the edge of the seat.

Two can play at this game - because Aubrey does not want her to fall. She does the only thing that she knows will work and lowers her face to Sophia's level and looks her directly in the eye. "I said  _sit_ ," she repeats.

Sophia stares at her for a fraction of a second longer before her face crumples and she drops to her bottom with a drawn out sob.

Aubrey lets go of her shirt and drops her hand to her lap. She sticks the spoon in the ice cream then turns back to Sophia and is about to warn her to quit crying before she stops herself. Her tone is familiar and her throat dries up before she can even recognize how much she had just sounded like her father. She diverts her gaze the ground - unable to look at the crying child in front of her. This is why she doesn't want kids. But is being like her father a bad thing? She bites back a surge of guilt, and in a desperate effort to redeem herself with Sophia, grabs the ice cream bowl off the table and offers it to her - spoon and all.

Sophia immediately stops crying. She looks at the ice cream then grins and takes it - placing the bowl back on the table then attempting to handle the spoon.

Aubrey lets her go, despite that ice cream immediately begins to drip down her arm when she turns the spoon upright. She rests her elbow on the table and her head against her hand - almost staring through Sophia as she eats. Being her father is  _not_ a bad thing. It's a good thing. She wants to be a Posen. She entangles her fingers in her hair then taps the fingers on her other hand against her leg. So why was she so eager to hand over the ice cream? She swallows thickly and watches the melted ice cream run down Sophia's chin.

The bell from the ice cream parlor door jingles, but Aubrey ignores it until the bartender, Nikki, addresses her.

"You'll have to ignore my brother," Nikki jumps straight into conversation. She walks over to the picnic table with an ice cream cone in hand and sits down across from Aubrey."He had this fling with a tourist last summer that didn't work out, and now he just hates everyone but locals." She licks her ice cream then pulls the cone back and swallows. "I'm Nikki, by the way."

Aubrey straightens up and lifts her head from her hand. She follows Nikki with her eyes as the bartender walks around the table. It takes her a moment to realize that Nikki is talking to  _her_ , even after she sits down. Didn't she break a shot glass at the bar? She glances around to see if anyone else is outside. It's just herself and Sophia. Her gaze travels back to Nikki when she properly introduces herself as though the events at the bar never even happened. It takes her a moment to catch up to the present. She sticks her hand out on autopilot. "Aubrey Posen," she introduces herself.

Nikki arches a brow at Aubrey's outstretched hand. She shifts her ice cream to her other hand then reaches out to shake it. "Nikki Bolton," she corrects herself.

Aubrey drops her hand back down to the table, unsure of where to go from there.

"Is that your kid?" Nikki asks and nods toward Sophia.

Aubrey looks at Sophia. More so, she looks at the ice cream that is all over her. "I'm watching her for a friend," she answers simply. She opens up Sophia's diaper bag and starts searching for a baby wipe to clean her up with.

"I hate kids," Nikki states matter of factly.

Aubrey looks up, rather taken aback by the bluntness. She glances at Sophia, but Sophia doesn't seem to understand the words. She grabs a packet of baby wipes then pulls one out and tries to wipe Sophia's face with it. Sophia whines and squirms in protest. Aubrey's efforts are useless.

"Where do you live?" Nikki urges the conversation forward.

It's a challenge not to stare at Nikki's tongue piercing as she speaks. Just looking at it makes Aubrey's tongue hurt. She's only half aware that her features crinkle in disgust. That aspect of her aside, overall, Aubrey decides that she might actually like Nikki. "New York," she answers with a little more ease. She makes sure that Sophia is still situated then slowly turns to face Nikki. "Have you lived here all of your life?"

"I moved here when I was five," Nikki answers. "My brother wants to move to New York. He wants to do like Broadway or something. What about your boyfriend? He from New York too?"

Aubrey blinks. Her boyfriend? She doesn't have a boyfriend.  _She means Luke._  She frowns. "Luke isn't my boyfriend. He lives in..."  _Where does Luke live again? Oh, right. The same place that Beca lives._  "He lives in L.A."

"Now that's more my kind of place." Nikki leans back slightly and waves her hand in slow motion in front of her as she speaks. "Nikki Bolton, bartender for L.A.'s finest celebrities." She refocuses on her ice cream. "Hook up with Johnny Depp every now and again." She shakes her head. "This island is only boring  _most_  of the time."

A bemused smile crosses Aubrey's lips. "There are plenty of other things to do in L.A. besides bartending." Because, for serious, who would  _want_  to deal with wasted alcoholics every night - even if they are attractive celebrity alcoholics. They're still on their way to rehab. "Even if you don't have a degree," she adds. She can't think of any other reason someone would take up such a profession - if it can even be considered a profession.

"I like bartending." Nikki turns her ice cream in a circle against her tongue. "Third grade, I wanted to own The Cannery. But back then that was mostly just because I wasn't allowed inside. I thought they were hiding like aliens in there or something. Fifth grade, my mom took me in to use their bathroom and I knew it was meant to be mine."

Nikki's story is even more far-fetched than some of Chloe's stories. Aubrey furrows her brows. "Your mother took you into a bar when you were in fifth grade?" she confirms.

Nikki glances up. "Mhm." She gives a brief nod. "I mean, it's not like she was passing beers to her ten year old."

"She didn't care that you wanted to own a bar?" Aubrey inquires. If she had ever had such a low goal in life...

Nikki shakes her head. "She said if I wanted something to go for it." She offers a curious smile. "What, were your parents like the super strict kind that chose what you were supposed to do for the rest of your life for you?"

Aubrey opens her mouth but doesn't say anything. Sometimes it hits her that most people choose their own life paths. But she did choose her own - sort of. She chose Chloe. She couldn't imagine not choosing Chloe, despite her father's disapproval. And she chose The Bellas. Only one of those things were something lasting though.

"Done!" Sophia pipes up and holds up her empty dish.

Aubrey turns to look at her and cringes when she sees that most of the ice cream is all over her. She takes the sticky, empty bowl and places it on the table.

Nikki makes a face. "You should probably go clean that up," she comments.

Aubrey nods her head. She uses the baby wipe again in an attempt to wipe off Sophia's hands.

Nikki holds her cone in one hand and pulls a phone out of her shirt with the other. "Hey, what's your number?" she asks and furrows her brows. "We can keep in touch and be friends even after you leave."

_Friends._  Aubrey looks up again. "Okay," she agrees. Did she sound too eager? She tries to brush it off as she gives Nikki her cell number. She doesn't know why she's so excited as Nikki enters it into her phone. Then again, no one has ever really asked for her number outside of business before (not even platonically). They mostly ask for Chloe's.

"Got it," Nikki murmurs and closes her phone.

Aubrey smiles and gets to her feet. She helps Sophia off of the seat, trying not to get sticky in the process. She glances toward the ice cream parlor then back at Nikki again. "What's your brother's name?" she asks. "I have some connections to Broadway."

Nikki's head shoots up and she grins. "It's Tyler," she replies without missing a beat. Her smile wavers slightly. "But I wouldn't get his hopes up. It's like once you're on this island, you never get to leave. I swear, even the ghosts of the people who have died here are stuck here forever."

"Well, I'll try my best," Aubrey assures her - not quite as annoyed with the ice cream parlor boy anymore. She holds onto Sophia by the back of her shirt. "I'll see you around?"

"Definitely." Nikki nods. "Stop by The Cannery. Drinks will be on the house."

Aubrey does her best to hold back a grin. "I think I will." She turns and leads Sophia back in the direction of the inn, thinking that maybe the week will start to look up afterall.


	22. Twenty-Two

**Arrhythmia**

* * *

  
_Come up to meet you,_   
_Tell you I'm sorry._   
_You don't know how lovely you are._   
_I had to find you,_   
_Tell you I need you,_   
_Tell you I set you apart._   
_\- Coldplay_   


* * *

Chloe is out like a light. Aubrey glances in the bedroom to check on her on her way to the shower with Sophia. She's sprawled out on her stomach with her face tucked against her arm - clinging to a leg of her stuffed bear with one hand. Aubrey closes the door to avoid waking her. And to keep Sophia from running in there and getting into their things.

"You have to be quiet," Aubrey tells Sophia in a hushed tone as she leads her down the hall, toward the shower room. Not that she thinks being loud would really matter when it comes to Chloe. It's just a matter of being polite. Chloe tries not to be loud when she's sleeping (most of the time). Chloe is just generally a loud person, but it's the thought that counts - at least it is at times  _other_  than when she's actually waking Aubrey up. Aubrey almost rolls her eyes at her thought.

"Okay," Sophia whispers in a voice that's more like high-pitched squeaking. It's probably as close to a whisper as a toddler can get. She presses a finger to her lips and tries to walk on her tiptoes.

Aubrey glances down at her to make sure she isn't touching anything with her sticky hands then pushes open the door to the shower. Yesterday, the shower looked heavenly. (And felt heavenly too. Or maybe that was just Chloe's hands...There is a toddler beside her. She stops thinking.) Now, it looks like a complicated nightmare - because how is she supposed to wash off a little kid in there? It's not as though she can use the  _showerhead_. She tries to be annoyed, but it's hard when she would be up for using the showerhead to do things other than shower again. She scans her other options. The shower jets on the wall would have too much pressure.

She stands there staring inside. Sophia starts to fidget.  _This isn't going to work. Plan B._

Aubrey grabs a towel from inside the door and tosses it over her shoulder. She places a hand on the back of Sophia's head and leads her back down the hall, into the kitchen. She drops the diaper bag onto the counter and unzips it then searches through its contents. Baby wipes. Animal crackers. An empty sippy cup. She pulls out a purple sundress and a pull-up then places them on the counter. "Can you take your own clothes off?" she asks and glances down at Sophia as she reaches over and turns on the sink water.

Sophia gives one confident nod. She grips the bottom of her shirt.

"Good." Aubrey leaves her to it and turns around to adjust the temperature of the water to lukewarm. She plugs the sink and keeps an eye on it as it fills up so that it doesn't overflow. She has enough to clean up. Once it's filled halfway, she turns off the water then turns to face Sophia.

Sophia has her arms stretched up over her head and is still gripping the bottom of her shirt. The neckline is stuck around her head - just below her nose. She grunts and tries to stretch her arms in a futile effort to pull her shirt off her head.

Aubrey rolls her eyes good-naturedly. She grabs the ends of the shirt and pulls it off of Sophia. The shirt and Sophia's sandals and shorts get folded neatly on the table, despite that they are a stained mess. She is about to toss her pull-up in the trash under the sink before she stops herself. She thinks of the photograph being under there and her stomach gets queasy. The diaper is clean, so she ends up placing that on the table as well. She swallows thickly and wipes her sweaty palms against her pants then turns to face Sophia once more. "Bathtime," she announces.

"Das a sink." Sophia points to the sink.

"We don't have a bathtub," Aubrey informs her. At least the kid can tell the difference between a sink and a bathtub. "Come here."

"Why?" Sophia asks and steps forward. She eyes the sink and reaches her arms in the air.

"Because that's how the inn is made." Aubrey lifts her up from underneath her armpits. The way she holds Sophia is a little too much like how Rafiki holds Simba at the beginning of The Lion King - but holding a toddler that doesn't have pants on does not seem safe. She tries to place her in the sink, but Sophia refuses to pull her legs up to sit and instead just stands in the water.

Sophia stomps in the water and splashes some of it over the edge of the sink. How can trying to clean up one mess create an even bigger one? Aubrey tries to recall if she was ever messy as a toddler, but she can't remember. By two years old though, Aubrey could stand still for over an hour, and she'd do anything to avoid her father's hand - so that is probably enough to answer her own question. She grabs a dishrag from the counter. "Sit down, please."

Sophia plops down in the water. The sink is just big enough that she can fit in it with her legs only slightly bent. She slaps her hands down and splashes more of the water. Aubrey jumps back in an effort to avoid the wave, but the front of her shirt still ends up drenched.

"You're getting me wet," Aubrey states matter-of-factly. She realizes quite suddenly that she should be angry. But she isn't. A smile fights to creep onto her lips. Her shirt is now sticking uncomfortably to the front of her, and it shouldn't be amusing, yet somehow it is - despite that she's now going to have to clean up herself and the floor as well as Sophia. She dips her fingers in the water then looks around as though to make sure no one is watching her immature behavior before she lightly flicks a few drops of it at Sophia's shoulder. Sophia squeals with laughter and sends another wave of water in Aubrey's direction. A quiet but rather shrill giggle escapes Aubrey's lips before she can stop it and she tries to duck away from the water.

Sophia grins and shakes her hands, sending droplets of water flying in every direction.

"I'm supposed to be making you clean," Aubrey points out. Though, technically, Sophia is cleaner now. And everything else is going to be cleaner too once she wipes the water off of it. (She recognizes that last thought as a 'Chloe thought' and rolls her eyes.) The idea of Chloe wearing off on her is a horrifying thought. Aubrey grabs a rag from beside the sink and dips it in the water. It needs to be the other way around where Aubrey rubs off on Chloe so she'll be more interested in cleaning up messes than making them.

Still, the miniscule amount of positivity she gets from just knowing what Chloe would say to try to make her feel better eases her anxiety about water being all over the counter and floor. She breathes easy and finishes cleaning up Sophia.

xxxxx

"Do you have toys in your bag?" Aubrey asks as she finishes mopping the water up off the floor then places the towel in the sink until she can have time to dry it off. She rests a hand on the counter and looks down at Sophia - who is now clean again and dressed in clean clothes as well.

"Mhm!" Sophia nods eagerly and walks over to the table. She places her hands on the edge and feels around for the strap of her bag until she finally finds it - then gives it a good, hard pull.

Aubrey quickly closes the distance between herself and the table and grabs the bag just before it has a chance to fall on Sophia's head. "I can't return you if you have a concussion," she stresses - only able to imagine what would happen if she tried to give Sophia back to Stacie with a goose-egg. She lifts up the bag then eases it down on the floor beside Sophia.

Sophia pries the bag open and peers inside. Aubrey heaves a sigh as Sophia begins to grab things and throw them on the floor.

"I could read you a book," Aubrey offers as a board book hits the floor. She squats down and begins to gather everything back up into a pile so it can be easily placed back into the bag. "How about I read you a book?"

"No," Sophia hums and keeps digging through her things.

"Are you hungry?" Aubrey asks when the bag of animal crackers joins the pile. She's not sure how Sophia could be hungry after eating ice cream (they really should have eaten lunch first), but anything is better than this sudden reading through the diaper bag.

"No," Sophia repeats.

Aubrey presses her lips together and tries to think. "Do you know what you're looking for?" she inquires.

"No." Sophia grabs the end of the bag then flips it over and dumps everything inside of it on the floor.

"Sophia!" Aubrey scolds. "You're going to have to pick all of that back up," she warns her and stares at the mess. She's not picking it up. It's not her mess. (She has a bad feeling that she will be the one picking it back up though and tries to swallow her irritation.)

"No."

Aubrey groans. Sophia is as bad as Chloe. At least she's had years of practice dealing with this kind of attitude.

Sophia picks up two plastic cars and hits them together. She makes a whirring noise and spins in a circle then stops and looks at Aubrey. "Outside!" she announces.

"Not until you pick up your things," Aubrey replies. She shakes her head and looks down at where everything is scattered. "If you pick up your mess, we can go outside," she rewords herself, hoping that Sophia will listen and do as she's told rather than just respond with a petulant 'no'.

Sophia looks up from her cars and stares at Aubrey for a moment before she looks down at everything she threw on the floor. She bends down and places her cars on the floor then straightens herself back up. "Okay, A Bee," she agrees. She walks over to the bag and begins to place her things back inside of it one by one.

"Thank you." Aubrey watches her for a second then decides to reward her good behavior by helping her. She smiles and tosses a few things into the bag, speeding up the process of putting everything away by a tenfold.

"Outside?!" Sophia questions once the floor is clean. She picks up her cars again and bounces up and down.

"Now we can go outside," Aubrey agrees. She absently brushes her hands together and gets to her feet.

Sophia squeals and makes a beeline for the door.

Aubrey can't help but feel she made a mistake by giving Sophia a bath already. "You can't get dirty," she warns her. There is nothing else for her to change Sophia into - and Stacie  _still_  hasn't contacted her back. She folds her arms across her chest and follows Sophia to the door.

"Okay, A Bee!" Sophia agrees again. She throws her arms in the air and presses up against the door. "Out!"

Aubrey sighs. She is at least finally being kept busy and doesn't have time to be trapped inside her own thoughts. She sighs in relief as she opens the door and releases Sophia back out into the wild.

xxxxx

"Here, A Bee!" Sophia offers her one of the cars once they're settled in front of the inn - in the spot that Aubrey and Chloe had been making daisy chains earlier. "You has dis one."

Aubrey takes the plastic car and looks it over. It's about the size of her hand - rubber and red with white racing stripes down the side of it. Sophia's is the same, only it's blue. She places the car down on the grass beside her then leans back against her elbows and watches Sophia spin in wild circles with her arms held out away from her sides.

"Vroom!" Sophia yells.

Aubrey pulls a few blades of grass out of the ground.

Sophia stops spinning and stares at her. "Spin, A Bee!" she demands and points at the red car. "You spin!"

Aubrey arches a brow. "I'm not going to spin," she informs her. That is where she draws the line. "I'd probably throw up." Contrary to popular belief, she does not actually get motion-sick (very often), but what if someone were to see her spinning around in circles? She'd probably throw up from embarrassment. "You spin. I'll watch."

"No, you spin!" Sophia insists. She bounds over to her and grabs one of her hands then tries to pull her to her feet.

Aubrey doesn't so much a budge. "You can't be serious."

"I serious," Sophia deadpans.

"I'm not spinning," Aubrey states stubbornly. She pries her hand away from Sophia's and drops it back down onto the grass. Kids.

Sophia points a finger at her. "Spin!" she demands.

Aubrey wrinkles her forehead. "Aca-scuse me?"

Sophia pauses for a moment then plasters on a sweet grin. "Pwease?" she begs then sticks out her lower lip.

Aubrey frowns. That face isn't fair. But there is no way Aubrey Posen is spinning in circles (especially outside in public). "I am not spinning," she repeats firmly.

Sophia drops her hand down in front of her and sticks her lip out further. Tears begin to well up in her eyes and her toy car hits the grass.

Aubrey sits up further and props herself up with her hands. "Don't even think about it," she warns her. She's already made the kid cry once today.

Sophia hangs her head and clamps her eyes shut tightly. She hunches her shoulders and twists the features on her face then lets out the most high-pitched, drawn out sob that Aubrey has ever heard.

"Your crocodile tears aren't going to work," Aubrey informs her. It's bad enough they worked on the ice cream. There is a reason that 'no' is a word - be it to prevent sticky messes or to simply preserve a sense of dignity. She exhales a slow breath and taps her fingers on the ground, looking in the opposite direction of the crying toddler. They're going to start attracting attention if Sophia isn't quiet. She looks at Sophia again and her frown deepens, causing her forehead to crease. It's not as though Aubrey choosing to not spin in circles is going to scar the kid for life, right?

Sophia chokes in a noisy breath then wipes as her face with the back of her hand as tears stream down her cheeks. She sniffles loudly then drops her arm back down and continues to cry loudly - almost screaming as though Aubrey is trying to kill her or something.

Aubrey stares at her for a few seconds before she can't stand to listen to it anymore. She's not supposed to feel  _bad_  about saying 'no'. She rarely feels bad about saying 'no' to anyone. "Fine," she relinquishes. She reluctantly grabs the toy car and pushes herself up onto her feet.

Sophia quiets down and stares up at her.

Aubrey shakes her head. She turns in a circle once then comes to a halt. "There," she announces and forces a smile. "Are you happy now?"

Sophia slowly shakes her head.

Of course she isn't. Aubrey scoffs. She purses her lips together and holds her hands out away from her sides. "I spun in a circle," she points out. She feels as though her words are useless though.

Sophia bends over and picks up her car. She holds it out to the side and spins in two circles.

Aubrey scowls. "This is ridiculous," she points out. If it's ridiculous, why is she even considering spinning around in circles? Her lower lip juts out in a miserable pout and she mutters under her breath about just how ridiculous it is as she turns in a few more circles.

Sophia squeals and spins with her.

At least they're alone.

xxxxx

"When can I stop spinning?" Aubrey asks. It occurs to her that she's asking permission to stop turning in circles from a two-year-old, and that only furthers her irritation. 56 spins has got to be enough. That's about 55 spins more than enough.

_57\. 58._

"No!" Sophia demands, twirling around at twice the speed (and occasionally falling over, but then getting right back up.)

"I'm going to throw up," Aubrey states - and partially believes it.

"No!" Sophia yells.

The noise Aubrey lets out sounds almost like a growl. She half-stomps in another circle.

There is a blur off to the side and before Aubrey can come to a halt, someone sticks their foot in front of hers. Aubrey's feet get tangled up with each other and she yelps as the ground comes up to meet her. She at least manages to turn over and land on her bottom. The pain that shoots up her already injured arm is unbearable, but her first thought is that it's better than falling on her face. "What the hell?!" she explodes (not caring that there is a child beside her). Her gaze follows the foot she tripped over up to the douchebag it belongs to.

_Bumper._

He snorts and stares down at her with a sickeningly entertained grin.

Sophia stops spinning and looks up at him and the two Treble alumni he's with. Aubrey doesn't remember their names; she doesn't care to. They don't need labels other than Dick-lick One, Two, and Three.

Aubrey's cheeks flush a light shade of crimson. She's not sure if her face is burning with embarrassment or anger. He laughs as she slowly starts to push herself upright. She's going to kill him. She's going to kill him as soon as the world stops spinning in circles. Letting a toddler tell her what to do was the worst idea she could have ever possibly had. She tries to focus.

Bumper holds his arms out to the side in front of the other two Trebles and takes a step back - pushing them back with him. "Make sure we're out of the 'splash zone'," he warns the others then looks at Aubrey. "If you vomit, do you think it will reach all the way over here, or are we safe?"

Aubrey turns her head in his direction and narrows her eyes at him. The corner of her lip twitches. She ignores the pain shooting up her arm and pushes herself to her feet - fast. Too fast. She regains her bearings relatively quickly then storms directly up to him. If she does vomit, she wants to make sure she doesn't miss her target. "I know what you did," she accuses him - skipping over his immature need to trip her like they're back in elementary school and jumping straight to the photograph (and the music). She no longer has any desire to blame Beca when Bumper Allen is directly in front of her. He is the only other suspect.

"You mean last summer or this summer?" Bumper asks and points in two different directions in front of him.

Aubrey doesn't know what that means. "You stay away from me," she warns him and pushes his shoulder.

Bumper looks at her hand then at his shoulder. He peels his shirtsleeve away from the skin then looks at the other Trebles. "Is there a way to make sure I don't get diseased from that?" he asks them.

He isn't even taking her seriously. Aubrey can feels her breaths getting shallower. She steps into his line-of-view, ignoring the other Treble as he takes several steps out of her way. "Listen, you repulsive, aggravating, abhorrent-"

"I can't hear you over the sound of you insulting m-" Bumper tries to cut her off, but Aubrey cuts him off.

"If you even so much as  _think_ coming near me again, or going near Chloe, you'll be speaking to your lawyer next," Aubrey threatens him.

Bumper just arches a brow. "Can't I get you arrested for shoving me then?" he asks and looks around. "Harassment!"

"Have I made myself clear?" Aubrey asks, ignoring the thought that maybe shoving him hadn't been the most intelligent move. She steps back and grabs Sophia by the hand.

Bumper exhales a laugh. "Yeah, okay," he replies simply, not really confirming nor denying that he recognizes how she serious is. He smirks. "How is Chloe? Beca's wedding must..."

Aubrey points a finger at him while backing up. "You stay away from her," she warns him. She drops her hand back down to the side and turns around, leading Sophia back to their room.

"I know what you did too!" Bumper calls after her.

What  _she_ did? Aubrey does her best not to literally stomp away from him. She retreats back to the safety of her room at the inn (although is it really safe if Bumper can break into it?) with no doubt in her mind that he is the culprit behind shoving the relationship between Chloe and Beca in her face.


	23. Twenty-Three

**Arrhythmia**

* * *

  
_Come up to meet you,_   
_Tell you I'm sorry._   
_You don't know how lovely you are._   
_I had to find you,_   
_Tell you I need you,_   
_Tell you I set you apart._   
_\- Coldplay_   


* * *

The room reeks of cinnamon and chocolate.

Aubrey leans over the stove, stirring the ingredients she took (with permission, of course) from the inn's kitchen around in a pot. Sometimes when Chloe is upset, Aubrey makes hot chocolate. Even more often, she makes it when they're _both_  upset. Not when they're angry - but when there is that empty void in the pits of their stomachs that nothing can seem to fill. She might make it if she, herself, was the only one upset, but then she would have to admit to that deep sinking feeling that occasionally eats away at her. And she'd have to put too much effort into trying to logic out how a few spoonfuls of cocoa powder and some milk can manage to fill the space. Phenylethylamine?

She adds a dash of vanilla extract and whisks it around then lowers the temperature of the stove to keep everything warm. By the time she cleans up, it will be time to wake up Chloe then to leave for the bonfire. Aubrey would rather be in Fallujah, getting her fingernails ripped out, than speak to Beca (assuming Beca still wants to speak to her) at the fire, but even that would be better than Chloe's tears over the matter if she doesn't wake her. And if Aubrey does wake her, that means she has to go too - or tears. She tosses the spoon she was using to stir into the sink.

"I knew something smelled good," Chloe's voice suddenly breaks Aubrey's thoughts. It's barely audible over the hum of Pandora's 80s channel (coming from Aubrey's phone on the counter) and still hoarse from sleep. She hiccups quietly - and that lets Aubrey know just how hard she had been crying before falling asleep. Chloe always ends up with hiccups after emotional meltdowns. "Can I help?" she asks tentatively.

Aubrey sets her jaw and turns her head to face Chloe. "It's already done," she answers. She can't look at her for more than a few seconds; the dried tears still clinging to Chloe's face cause her stomach to churn with anger directed at both Beca and, worse, herself. And with the anger that she has toward Chloe for being wrapped up in Beca to begin with.

"Oh." Chloe looks off to the side. She wrings her hands together and presses her thumbs into her palms. "Okay." She nods and diverts her gaze to the floor - just standing there.

Aubrey glances at her for another second then turns away. She draws in a deep breath to help deter the tightness building in her chest and turns off the burner on the stove. If they were home, there wouldn't be any tension between them. They wouldn't be fighting. She despises her oath to power through the week like a Posen. She wants to go home - and to take Chloe home with her. She exhales as though there is nothing on her mind (attempts to smile, even) and grabs three travel mugs she also took from the kitchen, along with Sophia's sippy cup.

Chloe slowly approaches her from behind. She rests her face against Aubrey's shoulder first then loosely wraps her arms around her waist. Another hiccup. She tucks the lower half of her face against Aubrey and stares at the pot of hot chocolate.

Aubrey reaches to lift the pot by the handle but stops herself. She can't concentrate when Chloe is so close to her. She doesn't want Chloe to touch her - not when she's not sure if Chloe  _wants_  to touch her or if Chloe is just trying to make herself feel better because of Beca. "I can't pour this when you're hanging on me, Chloe," she points out. But they both know that's a lie. Aubrey has learned to perform any task with Chloe's arms wrapped around her.

Chloe's arms drop straight down to her sides and she takes several steps back. "Aubrey, I know you're mad," she starts out thickly, "But I swear to you..."

"I'm not mad," Aubrey cuts her off and turns to face her again. She doesn't even want to think about anything that has happened on this island anymore. "Just drop it, Chloe."

Chloe presses her lips together to form a straight line then licks them and nods her head. "Okay," she whispers and nods.

Aubrey looks at the hot chocolate and wraps her hand around the pot handle. She can concentrate even less now that Chloe is sulking behind her. She swallows thickly and glares at the stove - frustrated with herself and with Chloe and with everything around her. She turns around once more and tries to ask her if she wants to wrap her arms around her again, but it comes out as nothing more than, "Do you want whipped cream?"

Chloe slowly folds her arms across her chest and nods multiple times. "Yeah," she answers, still barely speaking loud enough for Aubrey to hear her.

"Chloe..."

"Aubrey, it's fine." Chloe hiccups again and entangles her fingers in the fabric of her shirt. She shakes her head. "It's fine."

There's movement in the doorway and Aubrey tears her eyes away from Chloe to watch Sophia wander into the room. She bites back frustration, but at the same time feels relieved. "I thought you were watching TV," she says. She watches Sophia out of the corner of her eye as she pours the hot chocolate into the mugs and sippy cup - not spilling even a drop.

"No!" Sophia announces.

"Hey," Chloe coos immediately and squats down to Sophia's level. A tired smile starts to play on her lips. "What are you doing here?"

Sophia turns her head and widens her eyes at the sight of Chloe. "Up!" she demands and stretches her arms in the air.

"Up? I think I can manage that." Chloe stands while simultaneously lifting Sophia up into her arms. She balances her on her hip. "I know who you are," she states and lifts her free hand, placing her pointer finger on Sophia's nose. "You're Sophia." Her smile widens. "Do you know who I am?"

Sophia giggles and grabs Chloe's finger. She shakes her head.

Aubrey doesn't know why her throat suddenly feels dry.

"I'm Chloe," Chloe introduces herself.

"Glowy," Sophia tries to repeat her.

Chloe's forehead creases as she presses her lips together in a bemused grin. She looks like she's tempted to correct her then finally just nods in agreement. "Close enough," she replies. She glances over at Aubrey. "Are we babysitting?" she asks.

Aubrey opens her mouth to reply, but Sophia cuts her off.

Sophia places the heels of her hand Chloe's cheeks and presses her lips together into a fish-face. She tilts her head so she's directly in Chloe's line of view. "Glowy sad?" she asks and examines the tear marks on her face.

Chloe's smile slowly fades and takes the light from her eyes with it. She swallows thickly and shakes her head, loosening Sophia's hands slightly in the process. "I'm not sad," she assures her.

She's lying. Aubrey knows it. Even Sophia seems to see through her words.

"No be sad." Sophia wraps her arms around Chloe's neck and squeezes her in a bearhug.

Chloe draws in a shaky breath and hugs Sophia back loosely. Tears start to well up in her eyes and she sniffles quietly. "Thank you," she whispers when Sophia pulls back. She offers a watery smile.

Sophia leans over and presses a kiss to Chloe's cheek.

"You are so sweet." Chloe kisses Sophia's forehead.

Aubrey realizes that she's staring. She glances around before she remembers what she was doing then tosses the empty pot into the sink so she can wash it. She grabs the lid for Sophia's sippy cup then twists it on. Sophia's drink will have to go in the refrigerator for a moment to cool it down. She picks it up and carries it across the room, glancing back over at Chloe as she opens the refrigerator door. Chloe's clothes are wrinkled and her hair is a tousled mess. "Go get ready." She places the cup in the refrigerator then closes the door.

Chloe looks up and stares at her for a moment before the order seems to sink in and it dawns on her they have somewhere to be. "Oh," she mouths and turns around then makes her way out of the kitchen - taking Sophia with her.

Aubrey stares at the back of Chloe's head as she leaves then shakes her head. She's not sure she would have cared if Chloe had decided to go to the fire looking a little messy (Chloe rarely actually looks unpresentable) - except that Aubrey doesn't want to share knowing what Chloe looks like after just waking up. Chloe disappears into the bedroom, and Aubrey turns back to the empty kitchen. She's going to have to share her eventually - especially at the rate they're going. Although she's not really sure she'd know how to share her.

She pushes the thought out of her head and adds extra whipped cream to Chloe's hot chocolate then puts the lid on all three mugs and focuses on cleaning up.

xxxxx

"Do you really need to lug a whole bag to the beach?" Chloe asks.

Aubrey looks up from making sure she has everything they might need as Chloe reappears in the kitchen - with mostly tamed hair and a Yankees sweatshirt on over her t-shirt. Aubrey has never understood wearing a sweatshirt and shorts, and she finds it distracting that her attention is drawn to Chloe's legs whenever Chloe chooses to mix and match her seasonal clothing. "It's called a  _beach_  bag," she replies tersely.

Chloe adjusts Sophia on her hip. "Yeah, but..."

"I bought it to take to the beach," Aubrey elaborates.

"I know." Chloe steps forward and absently lifts the rope handle attached to the woven tote. "I just don't want you to be stuck carrying it around all night." She lets go of the beach bag and grab's Sophia's diaper bag - maneuvering the strap over her shoulder. "It looks heavy."

"It's not," Aubrey assures her. It really isn't. She doesn't need to take  _that_  many things to a bonfire. Only the essentials. Bug spray. An extra jacket. A blanket. She lifts the strap over her shoulder then walks over to the refrigerator and removes Sophia's sippy cup from the shelf. The hot chocolate feels lukewarm from the outside and Aubrey swirls it around to evenly distribute the heat as she shuts the refrigerator door again. She tests the temperature by dripping a few droplets onto her wrist - then licks them off. Satisfied that it isn't too hot, she offers the cup to Sophia.

Sophia grabs the cup out of her hands and drinks it greedily.

Chloe places two fingers on the lid of the cup and presses it down away from Sophia's mouth. "What do you say to Aubrey?" she asks.

Sophia glances up at Chloe then looks over at Aubrey with a wide grin. "Yum!" she answers enthusiastically. She wrenches the cup away from Chloe and puts it back in her mouth.

"I think that's an accurate answer," Chloe states and bobs her head.

Aubrey gapes at the two of them. So much for encouraging Sophia to be polite. She points at Chloe. "You two should not be allowed to interact." She lowers her hand and grabs Chloe's mug from the counter then holds it out to her.

Chloe's lips twist into the first sincere smile she's had all evening. She takes the mug from Aubrey and looks at the other two on the counter. "Why do you have two mugs?" she inquires before taking a sip from her own. The cocoa and whipped cream stick to her upper lip and she licks them off.

Aubrey looks at the mugs then picks them up. "Because after I drink one, I'm going to drink the other." Chloe looks perplexed. Aubrey snatches up both mugs before Chloe can say another word. "Let's go."

"I never understand Aubrey," Chloe whispers in Sophia's ear.

Aubrey shoots Chloe a look - which Chloe ignores. Chloe just blows a raspberry against Sophia's cheek then giggles as she does.

"Move," Aubrey tries to sound frustrated as she ushers them out the door.

Chloe smirks. "What if I say no?" she tests how serious Aubrey is at the same time that Sophia shouts, "No!"

Aubrey blinks and stares at them with a blank gives her head a slight shake then walks past them and toward the front door alone. It's literally like having two two-year-olds. She takes a sip of her hot chocolate then glances down as Chloe catches up to her and accidentally brushes their arms together. She stops beside the door and tucks one mug between her arm and side then rests her free hand on the knob.

Chloe stops beside her and waits for her to open it. She rocks back on her heels when Aubrey doesn't move. "What are we waiting for?" she asks and looks up at her - a tiny smile still playing on her lips.

Aubrey's breath catches in her throat as she stares at Chloe. She wants to continue being angry at her for earlier - to just believe the truth that Chloe knew Beca was going to walk into the kitchen, and to face that with Beca around, she just won't be enough. But the longer she stares at her, the less she wants to waste her time fighting - as frustrated as she is. Being frustrated is only increasing her frustration. She wants to enjoy Chloe while she has her. She draws in a deep breath while forcefully swallowing some of her pride. "I'm sorry." She almost doesn't want the words to slip out, but she's relieved when they do. She even can't quite pinpoint what she's sorry for. But saying the words just feels right.

Chloe blinks then her smile takes on a more somber tone. She adjusts Sophia in her arms and stands on her tiptoes, pressing her forehead against Aubrey's. It's impossible to avoid looking straight into her eyes - which always somehow seem to be full of more emotion and sincerity than Aubrey can ever comprehend. She presses a not-quite-kiss to Aubrey's lips then stands back down on flat feet.

"Me too."

 


	24. Twenty-Four

**Arrhythmia**

* * *

  
_Come up to meet you,_   
_Tell you I'm sorry._   
_You don't know how lovely you are._   
_I had to find you,_   
_Tell you I need you,_   
_Tell you I set you apart._   
_\- Coldplay_   


* * *

They walk toward the beach side by side in comfortable silence - their arms brushing against each other whenever one of them strays from walking in a straight line. The sun is setting, and despite that the air is cooling down, the hot chocolate makes Aubrey too warm. She clutches a mug in either hand and focuses on the heat radiating off the plastic and scalding her palms. It almost distracts her from the knowledge that she somehow needs to locate Beca and break away from the group without Chloe noticing - and then that she needs to have a civil conversation with her. Almost being distracted is as close to distracted as she's going to get. She watches the steam rise out of the lids then glances over at Chloe and Sophia (who has her head on Chloe's shoulder and is absently tapping her empty sippy cup against Chloe's shoulder blade) before looking straight ahead.

Chloe looks up at her a fraction of a second after she looks away. She smiles a lopsided smile and nudges Aubrey's arm with her elbow. "Penny for your thoughts," she offers lightly then takes a sip of her drink.

Aubrey looks over at her again. She forces a tight smile and shakes her head. "I'm not thinking about anything." She breathes in the warm, salty air (finally beginning to adjust to the smell) and looks in the direction of the beach. She can't see it yet, but she can hear the seagulls. They've almost reached the ice cream parlor. She dreads that Sophia will recognize it and demand more ice cream once she sees it.

"You're always thinking about something," Chloe points out. She hoists Sophia up further on her hip and absently kicks at a stone on the sidewalk. "I'm thinking about us," she states.

Aubrey's breath catches in her throat as she tries to exhale and she tightens her grip on the mugs. She can only see this conversation leading one of two directions. The first is Chloe trying to pressure into talking about whether or not they're more than just friends again. And the second is Aubrey's apology not being enough and Chloe asking her where to go from there. She immediately tries to deter Chloe from continuing. "Chloe, don-"

"I think we should finish what we started in the kitchen when we get back from the bonfire tonight," Chloe elaborates, talking right over Aubrey. She pauses briefly, not long enough for Aubrey to get another word in. "I mean, I finished it myself after you walked out earlier. But we could just start over."

It's better than what Aubrey thought she was going to say, but still not something Aubrey wants to discuss - at least not in public. "Is that all you ever think about, Chloe?" She's not sure she really wants to know the answer to that question. The thought of Chloe constantly imagining her naked causes her cheeks to flush. Her lips try to smile and that only causes her face to feel like it's on fire.

"It's not  _all_  I think about," Chloe replies and rolls her eyes. "It's not my fault I have a high sex-drive."

"Chloe!" Aubrey sputters and glances over at the toddler in her arms.

"What?" Chloe shakes her head. "At least I'm not like Stacie."

"That's not the point, Chloe," Aubrey replies quickly - though she takes a moment to thank God that Chloe is not like Stacie. "You can't say..." She pauses. "... _sex_ ," she hisses, "in front of a two-year-old."

Chloe laughs. "It's not like she knows what sex is, Aubrey." She bites her lower lip. "Well, given who her mother is..."

"She's going to go home and she's going to say it in front of Stacie," Aubrey states her concern.

"And you think that Stacie has never used the word 'sex' in front of her before?" Chloe giggles. "Aubrey, it's  _Stacie_."

Aubrey waves her hand in a circle but stops when hot chocolate almost sloshes out over the edge of the mug. "You're not getting the point." The point is that they should not be discussing sex in front of a toddler.

Chloe smiles and sighs at the same time. She leans in closer to Aubrey and lowers her voice, taking on a more seductively husky tone. "So, are you going to have your way with me tonight or not?"

Aubrey stops walking before she even realizes her feet stop moving. She turns to face Chloe and stares at her in silence - her lips slightly parted and her entire mouth dry. Her gaze is drawn back down to Chloe's legs (it's impossible to tell she's even wearing shorts since her sweatshirt hangs so low). She swallows hard and looks at her face again then furrows her brows at the entertained look in Chloe's eyes. Chloe is just trying to get her all hot and bothered, but two can play at this game.

Two can definitely play at this game.

Aubrey steps forward. She suddenly wishes her hands were free to rest on Chloe's hips - but closing the proximity between them is good enough. Chloe's lips part and the amused look becomes one of desire. Chloe is so touch-oriented that Aubrey only has to be close enough to be  _almost_  touching her to get her attention. Chloe briefly searches Aubrey's eyes before her gaze is drawn to Aubrey's lips. Aubrey leans in so they're not quite touching. She smirks as Chloe swallows thickly. "If we were alone, I'd have my way with you right now," she informs her. She straightens up and takes a step back, giving Chloe a moment to process her words.

Chloe's breaths are suddenly shallow. She licks her lips and scans the area - and Aubrey thinks she might actually be looking for somewhere to put Sophia. She looks over at Aubrey again and presses her lips together.

Chloe's sudden loss for words is Aubrey's way over knowing that she won this round. She resumes walking toward the beach - this time with a smug grin.

xxxxx

"I want ice cream," Chloe announces as they make their way past the ice cream parlor.

Aubrey rolls her eyes. So much for thinking that it would be Sophia begging her to go inside. Somehow even this conversation isn't even better than  _anything_  else they could be talking about. "You have hot chocolate," she says and keeps walking. She glances toward the shop. The lights are off. "It's closed anyway."

Chloe tilts her head and looks at the windows of the shop. "The sign still says it's open," she points out. She stops walking and turns toward the building. "I haven't eaten since breakfast, Aubrey."

Aubrey stops when Chloe stops. "They probably just forgot to flip the sign." It's pitch black inside the shop. There is definitely no way that it's open. She shouldn't have to suffer through Tyler just because Chloe can't remember to feed herself anyway. "There will probably be food at the bonfire."

Chloe turns to look at her. "Are you sure?"

"Chloe, you're going to a bonfire with Amy and a bunch of Trebles," Aubrey reminds her. "There is going to be some kind of food."

"Good point." Chloe nods and takes a few steps forward. The sound of plastic hitting the cement stops her again.

Aubrey looks down at Sophia's empty cup on the ground. "I got it," she says before Chloe can try to bend down to retrieve it herself. She looks at Sophia to tell her not to throw her things, but Sophia is fast asleep - her thumb in her mouth and her other hand entangled in Chloe's hair. Aubrey tries not to smile - and fails. She tucks the mug she's been drinking from under her arm then bends over to pick up Sophia's cup.

"Bree, did you hear that?" Chloe asks suddenly and turns back toward the shop.

Aubrey lifts her head. She looks toward the shop then up and Chloe. Birds chirp in the distance. "Hear what, Chloe?" She grabs the cup then shakes it to make sure it's really empty and not going to spill everywhere. "I didn't hear anything." She tugs open the zipper of the diaper bag with one hand (careful not to pull the bag off Chloe's shoulder) then stuffs the cup inside. She zips it back up and looks at Chloe.

Chloe takes a step closer to her. "I just...thought I heard something," she answers vaguely, barely above a whisper. The street lamps flicker on and they both look up. Chloe suddenly looks uncomfortable. She shifts Sophia's weight and looks around.

"It was probably just a seagull," Aubrey logics out calmly. She vows to not even put thought into it potentially being something else. Unless Chloe was just hearing things - which is entirely possible considering they're alone on a dark street.

"Yeah." Chloe presses her lips together and shakes her head. She smiles softly. "It was just a seagull."

Aubrey rests her hand on Chloe's mid-back and looks up and down the street. She breaks her vow to not think about the noise, wondering if Chloe potentially heard the music that has been following her. "Chloe..." Her name slips out before Aubrey can stop herself.

Chloe leans into her hand and looks up at her. "What?" she asks, her voice no longer showing any sort of fear from whatever she had possibly heard.

Aubrey's words catch in her throat. Scaring Chloe would do more harm than good. She presses her lips together into a tight smile and shakes her head. "Nothing."

Chloe smiles back at her and furrows her brows. "Aubrey," she starts slowly and tilts her head. "Are you okay?" She presses into Aubrey's side.

Aubrey lets her arm slide around Chloe's waist. The mug of hot chocolate scalds her through her shirt where its tucked under her arm, but she ignores it. "I'm fine," she insists.

Chloe bites her lower lip and looks down at the pavement for a moment before back up at her. "I'm worried about you," she admits with a concerned smile. "I just want you to tell me what's wrong."

Is she really that obvious? "I'm fine, Chloe," Aubrey repeats. She takes a step toward the beach, lightly trying to draw Chloe along with her. "We're going to be late."

Chloe leans her head against Aubrey's shoulder for a fraction of a second. "Okay." She lifts her head and nods, starting toward the beach again.

xxxxx

Chloe heaves a loud sigh as they step onto the beach. "I don't want to give her back," she says and looks down at Sophia. She smiles and hugs the toddler slightly closer to her.

Aubrey rolls her eyes. She stops walking as soon as she feels the cool sand slide between the bottoms of her feet and her sandals. "I can't handle two children," she replies absently and squints as she stares straight ahead. They're not the first ones there. A few Trebles have spotlights and are shining them on the giant bonfire that Jesse is trying to light. She tries to spot Beca.

"Hey!" Chloe tries to elbow her. Hot chocolate sloshes over the edge of her mug.

"Watch what you're doing, Chloe!" Aubrey jolts away before Chloe's drink can get on her clothes. Point proven. She arches a brow at her.

"Oops," Chloe murmurs. She chews on her lower lip and looks away from Aubrey.

Aubrey shakes her head. It'd be a waste of energy to be frustrated at Chloe, so she just forgets that she was nearly soaked with hot chocolate and scans the beach again.

"We just look like this little family, you know," Chloe says quietly.

Aubrey glances back over at her - unsure of what she's getting at. She's not sure if Chloe means herself and Sophia, or if she means Aubrey as well. She manages a slight nod and tries not to look confused.

Chloe looks down and digs her toes into the sand.

Aubrey faces forward again. She doesn't see Beca. She inhales slowly and lifts a hand, patting Chloe on the shoulder. "Go find Stacie or Donald," she directs her and keeps looking up and down the beach. "I have to go do something."

Chloe looks up at her. "Do what?" she asks with a tone of innocent curiosity.

Aubrey turns her head and meets Chloe's gaze. "Something," she answers simply. She pulls her phone out of her pocket and looks down at it.

Chloe stares at her for a moment then shrugs. "Okay, Miss Mysterious." She smiles and scans the beach once before looking at Aubrey again. "Just hurry back so I don't get bored."

Bored? Aubrey wonders what the chances of Chloe getting bored while being surrounded by a bunch of people are. She turns to face her again just as Chloe is about to kiss her cheek and their lips collide. Chloe tastes like cinnamon and whipped cream. Aubrey pulls back. "You did that on purpose," she accuses her - although she's not really sure how Chloe would have known that she was going to turn her head.

"I'm just warming you up for tonight," Chloe quips without a thought.

Aubrey licks her lips. They still taste like Chloe somehow. "I didn't agree to that yet." But she knows she's not kidding anyone. They'll be doing more than kissing later, and Aubrey suddenly finds herself at a loss for words - which is not acceptable.

Chloe winks at her. "I'm gonna go find Stacie." She scrunches her nose then turns and starts walking toward the fire - which Jesse seems to have finally managed to light.

Aubrey stares at the back of her head before she realizes that she was about to text Beca. That thought alone is enough to ruin the mood. She draws in a breath as she looks down at her phone and flips it open. They could just not speak - but then Aubrey would never get closer to finding out who the hell has made it their mission to make her week miserable. She presses a few buttons then sends the dreaded text.

' _Where are you?_ '


	25. Twenty-Five

**Arrhythmia**

* * *

  
_Come up to meet you,_   
_Tell you I'm sorry._   
_You don't know how lovely you are._   
_I had to find you,_   
_Tell you I need you,_   
_Tell you I set you apart._   
_\- Coldplay_   


* * *

Off to the right of the beach, trees loom over the sand and cast ominous shadows as the sun sets. Aubrey swallows thickly and approaches the area with caution - her knuckles turning white from how tightly she is gripping the mugs she's carrying. Her hands almost start to shake but she forces them to stop with sheer determination. Out of all the places to meet, of course Beca chooses the treeline. It probably has a path leading to the cliffs and can conceal whoever might be watching them behind thick foliage. She turns her head and cranes her next to look back at the group of others as she gets further away from them and further away from the open beach. It crosses her mind that perhaps Beca is causing her to stray from the group on purpose.

Of course Beca is leading her away from the group on purpose. Aubrey realizes she's being ridiculous. They're not going to talk at the bonfire where everyone can hear them. She turns her head to face forward again and breathes a quiet sigh when she notices Beca sitting on the ground in the distance, propped up against a tree. Did she just feel relief from seeing Beca? Her upper lip curls in a mixture of disgust and aggravation.

"Beca," she hisses when they're close enough to be in hearing range of each other. She glances back toward the fire, wondering what Chloe is doing and if she found Stacie yet, then looks at Beca again and resigns to the fact that she is stuck with her for a few minutes.

Beca lifts her head and drops her arms from where they were resting on her slightly bent knees down to her sides. She presses her hands down into the sand and sits up straighter then brushes her palms off on her jeans. "Thought you weren't coming," she states and looks around at the ground before up at Aubrey.

Aubrey stops a few inches away from her. "Thought or hoped?" If Beca actually  _thought_  she wasn't going to show up, she didn't know Aubrey very well. When Aubrey Posen said she would be somewhere, she would be there - whether or not she was being joined by the very reason she was in such a trying situation to begin with.

"I was being civil." Beca forces a smile at her.

Aubrey rolls her eyes - then stops herself before she can respond and reminds herself that she and Beca are  _not_  getting off to a bad start tonight. She draws in a breath and extends her arm, offering Beca one of the mugs. "I made this for you." It takes effort for her not to grit her teeth.

"You what?" Beca looks at the mug incredulously then looks up at Aubrey again. "What  _is_  that?"

As if making a peace-offering wasn't already challenging enough. "It's hot chocolate," Aubrey explains. She holds the mug out a little further and her eyebrows raise in an insistent look.

Beca reaches up and takes the mug from her. She looks it over then holds it up to her face and smells it.

"It's not poisoned, Beca," Aubrey snaps. She clenches her jaw and lowers herself down onto the sand. "Even if it was poisoned, I'd make sure the poison was odorless," she assures her.

Beca lowers the mug a few centimeters and raises her eyebrows. "I was just smelling the cinnamon." She raises the mug to her lips then murmurs, "I hate Bosco. It's full of DDT. Aubrey put some in my mug and tried to poi-"

Aubrey tosses a handful of sand in the direction of Beca's legs.

Beca smirks and tilts the mug against her lips.

Aubrey holds her breath and waits for a reaction. It's taken her years to perfect that recipe - trying different amounts of the ingredients each time she makes it (even though Chloe says that every version tastes great). She wants it to taste just like when her mother made it. She thinks maybe she finally has it almost right. Or maybe she's just forgotten what her mother's recipe tastes like.

Beca swallows and lowers the mug. She raises it in Aubrey's direction then places it in the sand beside her - digging it into the ground so it doesn't fall over.

The wordless gesture has no meaning - despite that Aubrey wastes a good three seconds of her time trying to decipher it. She's not sure why she needs Beca's approval anyway. She doesn't. She turns and faces the ocean. Waves lap the beach and a cold breeze blows sand in her direction. She puts down her mug and brushes the grains off of her arms and hands. "I thought you needed to talk to me," she tries to keep them from falling into an awkward silence.

Beca turns to the side and pulls her laptop bag closer. The corner of it hits her mug, but she grabs it before it falls over and spills.

Aubrey draws her legs up toward her chest and wraps her arms around them. She sighs quietly then turns her head and watches Beca dig through her bag out of the corner of her eye.

Beca pulls a photo out of her bag and hands it to Aubrey. "That was on Jesse's pillow," she says and glances at it then resumes digging through her bag.

It's the same photograph that had been on Aubrey's refrigerator. Aubrey slides her thumb across the glossy paper - tracing the graduation hat that Chloe is wearing. Chloe looks so happy next to Beca. She can't look at it. "You thought I put it there," she reminds Beca and attempts to hand the picture back to her.

Beca takes the photo and stuffs it back into her bag. "Yeah, well, you didn't plant this," she states and holds out a closed fist.

Aubrey lifts her hand and hesitates for a moment (because God only knows what Beca is trying to give her) before sliding it palm up under Beca's hand. Beca uncurls her fingers. Electric shocks tingle the nerves from Aubrey's hand up to her elbow as Beca's fingers brush against her palm. She slowly pulls her hand back and looks down at the ring that Beca released. Her throat constricts and she snaps her gaze upward to look at Beca. "You  _don't_  still have this." Her brows furrow and she looks back down at the ring - engraved on the inside with Beca's name. She figured Beca would have thrown it out - considering Chloe had bought it for her to symbolize their 'friendship forever' or something.

Aubrey glances down at her own ring - on the ring finger of her right hand. It's identical to Beca's (only with her own name engraved) and to Chloe's. Chloe thought they would make meaningful gifts - and they did. Aubrey never takes hers off.

"Yeah, I didn't for awhile," Beca answers and fumbles around in her bag.

Aubrey looks at her again when silence follows that statement.

Beca looks at the ring out of the corner of her eye. She sighs. "It was locked in a trunk in my dad's attic. It showed up on my pillow after I got back from the cliffs."

The knowledge that Beca took a gift that Chloe had devoted so much thought to and threw it in some attic causes Aubrey to start twisting her own ring around her finger. It's not her place to be offended, she tells herself. She originally expected Beca had trashed the ring. She prides herself in that she'd never do that. Not even if she and Chloe parted ways. "I could have made a copy of my ring with your name on it," she points out, unsure of how this is Beca's proof that she isn't behind this. She needs to know that they're really on the same page. "I know where Chloe had the rings made."

"I bet you broke into my dad's house to make sure you had the chip under the 'e' just right too," Beca quips.

Aubrey immediately flips the ring over to see what Beca is talking about. Sure enough, there is a chip in the silver. "You better not let Chloe see that you broke this, Beca," she snaps. "Do you have any idea how much this cost?" She doesn't wait for Beca to attempt guessing. "It cost a fortune." Breaking is still better than losing it or throwing it out, but that doesn't quell Aubrey's anger.

"Dude, I know how much it cost," Beca matches her tone.

"Obviously, you don't," Aubrey argues. "Because if you knew how much it cost, you wouldn't have -"

"I don't need to take it to the Antique Roadshow to get an exact appraisal," Beca bites back. "I know how much it cost, Aubrey."

"The Antique Roadshow is not the -"

"Can we focus on the fact that someone broke into my dad's house and stole the ring?" Beca asks with a tense laugh of disbelief.

Aubrey closes her mouth and frowns. Fine. She can concentrate on the problem at hand. For now. "Who do you think it was?"

"Trebles," Beca suggests and picks up her mug. "Who else would it be?" She takes a sip of her hot chocolate.

"That was my guess too." At least they can agree on something. Aubrey remembers her own mug and picks it up. "So you think Jesse's involved?" She swirls her mug.

Beca lowers her mug and shakes her head as she swallows. "No," she answers and places her mug back down on the ground. "I think they're trying to screw with him." She brushes her hands together. "Some pre-wedding joke or something." She looks back up at Aubrey.

It doesn't shock Aubrey that Beca would defend him. She didn't expect anything less. She opens her mouth to inform Beca that that doesn't make any sense, but on second thought, it actually makes a lot of sense - and she's torn between whether or not she believes Jesse has anything to do with it (especially considering it's involving Beca's relationship with Chloe). The Trebles could be screwing with Aubrey and Chloe to screw with Beca, and screwing with Beca would screw with Jesse. 'Crazy' on the mirror could have just been a side-prank to get Aubrey going. She can feel her irritation bubbling inside of her. "Did they do anything else?" She sips her drink in an attempt to make the question seem more casual.

Beca looks at the ocean. "Just some prank calls," she answers. "Jesse said he got one too." She pauses. "They keep playing-"

"Wedding of the Winds," Aubrey finishes her sentence.

Beca glances at her. "Felix Mendelssohn's Wedding March," she corrects her then looks away. She leans back against her hands and Aubrey finds herself putting her mug down and mimicking the position - slipping Beca's ring onto her pinky then bending her finger so it doesn't fall off and get lost in the sand. Beca continues speaking. "Jesse said he was going to tell the guys to fuck off."

"Language, Beca," Aubrey reprimands her.

"I was quoting." Beca forces a tight smile.

Aubrey rolls her eyes. She sighs to herself and presses the pads of her fingers into the sand, staring at a few shells and stones that litter the sand in front of her.

"So, did you and Chloe move your  _exhibitionism_  to the brush or something?" Beca asks out of nowhere.

Aubrey snaps her head to the side and scoffs. "Aca-scuse me?" She glares at Beca, wishing she'd just let the topic go. She finds no need to bring it up and go into further detail about what happened in the kitchen, unless they're addressing the fact that Beca got what was coming to her with Chloe's outburst. "That's none of your business, Beca."

The look on Beca's face could be considered a grimace, but Aubrey isn't sure. "I was asking what happened to your arm," Beca elaborates. She lifts a hand and brushes it against her pants.

Aubrey doesn't quite know what she means and immediately looks down at her arm, twisting it around so she can see the back of it since the front looks fine. She notices a brush burn from where she must have scraped her arm when Bumper tripped her. She must have been too busy with Sophia to notice it earlier. She lifts her hand in a subconscious attempt to hide the injury from Beca then grits her teeth when the sand on her hand causes the raw skin to burn for the first time. "I'm going to destroy that dick-lick," she mutters under her breath - not meaning to say the actual words out loud. Beca arches a brow.

"This conversation is over," Aubrey announces. If they have finished discussing the Trebles pranking them (being tripped by Bumper does not count), Aubrey has no desire to continue speaking. She grabs her mug and gets to her feet.

Beca picks up her mug as well and practically scrambles to her feet, kicking up sand in the process. "Did Bumper do that to you?" she asks.

"I don't know what part of 'this conversation is over' you didn't seem to understand." Aubrey tries to brush the sand off herself then just gives up. She adjusts the bottom of her shirt with one hand then turns and takes a few steps back toward the bonfire.

"Dude,  _wait_ ," Beca draws her to a halt again.

Aubrey stands still and waits for her to continue. The silence extends past three seconds and she turns around and raises her eyebrows are high as they will go. " _What_?" she urges her to continue - debating just walking away like she had planned to do. She doesn't know why she even stopped. What else could Beca have to contribute?

"I think we should tell each other if anything else happens," Beca replies. Her words don't sound as reluctant as Aubrey thinks they should.

Aubrey briefly wonders if Beca is as scared as she is, but it's a fleeting thought. The Trebles are nothing to be scared of - and Posens don't admit to fear anyway (Or, they shouldn't. Not even in their own heads. She's really doing a grand job at that one.) She presses her lips together and bites the corner of them as she stares at Beca and debates the idea in her head. It's not as though she would have to tell her about the mirror incident - as they're not agreeing on telling each other anything else done in the past. Something else may happened in the future that Aubrey doesn't think other people (see: Beca) need to know about - but anything else that does happen should not be taken lightly. "Fine," she clips.

Beca shifts her weight from one foot to the other. "Should we oath it or something?"

Aubrey has to consider that as well. It's not as though Beca took the Treble oath seriously. Aubrey could very well be telling Beca whatever the Trebles do to her while Beca tells her absolutely nothing. "No," she answers firmly. She stretches out her hand and curls all of her fingers in toward her palm except for her pinky - the same one with the ring on it.

Beca blinks then grins in disbelief as she stares at Aubrey's hand. She looks up at her. "Are you serious?" she asks through nearly-clenched teeth and laughs under her breath.

Does she not look serious? Aubrey frowns. "Dixie -"

"Chicks serious," Beca finishes for her. She salutes her (making an obnoxious clicking noise with her tongue as she does so) and winks. "Got it."

Aubrey's nostrils flare in frustration. "This is more serious than placing your right hand on the Bible, Beca," she informs her. "Now do it."

Beca goes to reach out her hand but then realizes she's holding her mug. She wastes a fraction of a second (which is a fraction of a second too long, in Aubrey's opinion) of Aubrey's time switching the mug to her other hand then awkwardly locks pinkies with her. "Do we have to say anything?" she asks and looks around. Her gaze finally settles on the waves lapping the beach just diagonal over Aubrey's shoulder.

Does Chloe ever say anything when she demands a pinky promise? Aubrey can't remember. "We tell each other everything the Trebles do," she says simply. She nods at Beca for her to repeat it.

"We tell each other everything the Trebles do," Beca repeats slowly. She extracts her pinky from Aubrey's and wipes her hand on her jeans.

"Aren't you a little old for cooties, Beca?" Aubrey folds her arms. "Stop being a child. I've touched more than your hand before."

Beca looks down at her hand with an expression that signals she didn't even realize what she was doing and she stops rubbing her hand against the side of her pants. It's hard to tell in the moonlight, but Aubrey is almost certain that Beca's cheeks flush a light shade of red. It's satisfying somehow and brings a smug smirk to Aubrey's face. But it quickly fades and Aubrey draws them back to what they should be focused on.

"We can't walk back to the bonfire together," she informs Beca. She takes a step backward toward the wedding party. She hesitates and almost has to swallow down bile before continuing with, "Chloe isn't going to know about this."

Beca takes a half of a step forward and tilts her head, squinting her eyes at Aubrey. "You didn't tell Chloe about the Trebles?"

"Chloe has enough to worry about, Beca," Aubrey reminds her and ignores Beca's glance away from her. "She's not going to know about the Trebles and she's not going to know that we talked. Do I make myself clear?" She wonders if she should pinky promise this as well. Is there any promise that is more serious than a pinky promise?

"Don't you think Chloe has the right to-"

Aubrey has zero interest in what Beca has to say when it comes to Chloe's well-being, because Beca is most-definitely always wrong. She has proved that much. There is no reason that they need to drag Chloe into this. "I swear to God, Beca," she growls at her, "If you tell her, a few Trebles breaking into your father's attic will be the least of your worries. You're not going to stress her out. Do I make myself  _clear_?" She tightens her arms across her chest.

Beca doesn't argue. She immediately takes a step back. "Crystal," she answers briefly.

Aubrey nods in approval. "So, you're going to wait here five minutes after I leave and then you're going to walk back," she directs her, done discussing Chloe with her.

"Five minutes?" Beca asks and looks toward the bonfire.

Aubrey rolls her eyes. Beca is acting like she said five  _hours_. "Five minutes is an adequate amount of time-"

"What am I supposed to tell Jesse when he asks where I was?" Beca asks.

"How am I supposed to know?" Aubrey doesn't even know how Beca sees that as her problem. At least Beca was intelligent enough not to tell Jesse where she was going beforehand. "Make something up. You have five minutes to think about it." She feigns an encouraging smile then turns around and starts her trek back toward the bonfire with hope that Beca won't interrupt her with anything else. Unfortunately, hope is all that it is.

"Can I have my ring back?" Beca calls after her.

Aubrey glances down at the ring and the chip that Beca so carelessly put in the silver with probably no regard to Chloe's feelings. "No, Beca," she calls back to her. "You can't."

She slips the ring off her finger and stuffs it in her pocket.


	26. Twenty-Six

**Arrhythmia**

* * *

  
_Come up to meet you,_   
_Tell you I'm sorry._   
_You don't know how lovely you are._   
_I had to find you,_   
_Tell you I need you,_   
_Tell you I set you apart._   
_\- Coldplay_   


* * *

Aubrey's face is a blank canvas as she approaches the blazing fire and the already partially-drunk wedding guests whose hoots, hollers, and pointlessly loud conversations are starting to carry across the beach. The Trebles are all downing beers while most of the Bellas (save for a few) have opted for wine coolers. She steps around a bunch of blue and red ice coolers and makes her way over to Chloe - who has, unsurprisingly, chosen a bottle of Yuengling which is dug into the sand next to where she's sitting. Fat Amy is sitting on a log beside her with a plate full of four hot dogs (which doesn't really look like that many next to Chloe's plate, which has two hot dogs and a ridiculous amount of macaroni salad.) Neither look like they're speaking, both staring at their plates and focusing on their food.

Beca's ring is burning a hole in Aubrey's pocket, but she stays composed (despite her anger that Beca broke it) and stops in front of Chloe.

Chloe looks from her plate to Aubrey's feet then trails her gaze upward to Aubrey's face. She swallows a mouthful of macaroni salad then smiles at her. "Welcome back from your 'something'," she greets her. She glances around at the ground before locating her beer. She picks up the bottle and tilts it against her lips.

"Are you ready to go, Chloe?" Aubrey wants to get back to the inn to hide the ring in her suitcase before Chloe can find it in her pocket and ask her about it. She's not sure why Chloe would be reaching into her pocket to begin with, but this is Chloe.

Chloe lowers the bottle from her mouth. She licks her lips and shakes her head as she puts it back in its original spot in the sand. "We just got here," she answers. She puts her plate on her lap and leans forward at the waist then reaches for Aubrey's hand, grabbing her by the tips of her fingers. "Sit down." She drags her over to the log then releases her hand and pats the space beside Amy.

Amy looks up from her hot dogs. She leans in closer to Aubrey and lowers her voice. "I was telling Chloe that we should tell ghost stories and -"

"That's nice." Aubrey sits down beside her. She frowns when Amy continues to lean in her direction and she practically has to lean over Chloe's shoulder. "Amy," she reprimands her.

Amy sits back up in slow motion.

Aubrey eyes her out of the corner of her eye and follows the suit. She shakes her head and looks at Chloe again when she's finally able to sit up straight. "I think that we should go." If she's lucky, she can even convince Chloe to finish her food within the next three minutes so that they're not around when Beca gets there.

Chloe looks up at her and frowns. "Aubrey, stop." There irritation in her voice is almost palpable. It's clear to Aubrey that she's already had more than just the bottle of beer beside her. She settles down and rests a hand on Aubrey's knee. "We can make this a fun night, okay?" She squeezes her leg then drops her hand back down to her side.

Aubrey clenches her jaw and folds her arms across her chest. How is she supposed to argue when it's only going to start a fight? She can practically feel Fat Amy staring at them like they're about to start World War 3. She sighs and stares a Chloe. "Fine," she concedes. She reluctantly slides her bag off her shoulder and drops it on the ground behind the log.

"Thank you." Chloe bumps Aubrey's leg with her upper arm then takes a bite of one of her hot dogs. She rips off a piece of the bun from the end she bit off of and offers it to Aubrey.

"You couldn't tear it off the other end, Chloe?" Aubrey uncrosses her arms and takes the bread. She bites off half of it and presses it against the roof of her mouth with her tongue as she faces the fire.

"If I do that, how am I supposed to hold it when I get down that far?" Chloe asks. She eats the part of the hotdog missing the bun.

Aubrey slowly chews the bread and realizes that Chloe is serious about her question. She swallows. This conversation is pointless, but Aubrey decides to humor her. "You turn it around and eat it from the other end. It's not rocket science."

Chloe turns the hotdog around in her hand and stares at it like it might actually  _be_  rocket science. "Oh." She tears a piece of bun off from that end as well and offers it to Aubrey.

"You're drunk already, aren't you?" Aubrey stuffs the piece of bread she's already holding into her mouth then snatches the new piece from Chloe's hand.

"I am not drunk," Chloe denies. She pauses. "Yet."

"Uh huh." Aubrey absently scratches her nose. She leans forward and rests with her arm on her leg. "How many drinks have you had, Chloe?" she asks in a honeyed-tone.

"I haven't had that many drinks." Chloe stops to lick some ketchup off her thumb. "You weren't even gone long enough to have that many!"

Aubrey smirks and nods once. She eats the other piece of bread then grabs Chloe's bottle of beer to wash it down with.

"Hey!" Chloe spins to face her and reaches for the bottle with a wide grin spreading across her face. "Get your own."

Aubrey holds the bottle out of Chloe's reach (which isn't that challenging considering Aubrey is already taller than she is and is sitting on a log while Chloe is sitting on the ground). "You've had enough," she informs her with an entertained smile. She leans away from Chloe as she lowers the bottle and takes a swig of its contents - accidentally bumping into Amy, who she forgot was beside her. She lowers the bottle and swallows. "Sorry, Amy," she apologizes and places a hand on her shoulder.

Amy just nods and continues eating.

Aubrey blinks and turns to face her, expecting a verbal answer and more rambling about things she couldn't care less about. She momentarily wonders if she offended her by cutting off whatever she was saying about ghost stories. Is she supposed to apologize for that? Amy doesn't acknowledge her. Aubrey waits for what she deems to be an acceptable amount of time before it just looks like she's staring. The silence is uncomfortable and maybe even slightly offending (because they have a lot they should be catching up on this week). She opens her mouth and tries to come up with what she's supposed to say to start conversation then just blurts out, "Why are you not talking?"

Out of the corner of her eye, Aubrey can see Chloe look up from her plate and lean forward to look around Aubrey's legs at Amy.

Amy looks up. She looks at Aubrey and then at Chloe and then back at Aubrey again. She motions to herself. "I'm just really shy, Aubrey," she whispers.

Aubrey opens her mouth to speak, but she doesn't know how to respond to that. She replays Amy's voice in her head to make sure that she heard her correctly. Her eyes narrow in confusion and she glances at Chloe, who becomes overly focused on her plate of food again. "I'm missing something here," she states and looks back over at Amy.

"No, you're not," Chloe assures her. Aubrey blatantly ignores her. Chloe is a terrible liar.

"Amy..." Aubrey applies light pressure - just enough that maybe she'll crack.

"What am I supposed to say?" Amy singsongs to Chloe in a low tone out of the side of her mouth.

Chloe lifts her plate and places it on Aubrey's lap - momentarily distracting Aubrey from the matter at hand.

Aubrey lifts the bottle of beer she's still holding away from her lap and frowns. "I'm not a table, Chloe," she admonishes.

"Hobo Pies," Amy announces out of nowhere. She pushes herself to her feet and grips her plate.

Aubrey looks up at Amy then follows her gaze to Beca's dad, who is cooking some kind of sandwich over the fire.

"Dr. Mitchell better watch his jaffles," Amy hums and marches in his direction.

"Amy!" Aubrey calls after her. Her features fall slightly. They've barely had a chance to speak since they've arrived. She straightens up and bites down on the inside of her lower lip as it threatens to stick out and reveal her disappointment. She'll settle for just looking irritated. "What kind of person would want to eat something with the word 'hobo' in its name anyway?" she mutters to Chloe.

Chloe rests her arm on Aubrey's lap and taps her fork on her plate as she watches Amy walk away. "What's a jaffle?" she asks as though she's the one posing the important question. She shakes her head and looks back down at her plate then stabs several macaroni with her fork.

Aubrey doesn't dignify her question with an answer. She glances down and steals Chloe's fork then replaces it in her hand with the beer bottle before Chloe can close her fingers. From out of the corner of her eye, she can see Beca walking across the beach. A permanent scowl becomes etched in her features. She glances down at the fork and resigns herself to being a 'victim' of Chloe's love for campfire food until they can leave.

xxxxx

The Trebles hum a ridiculous harmony of 'Here Comes The Bride' as Beca steps into view of everyone surrounding the fire. She spreads her arms out to the side - only to draw more attention to her presence. And Jesse approaches her and kisses her hard on the lips. She kisses him back for a short amount of time before pulling back and shaking her head, whispering something in his direction. He simply grins and makes a kissy face at her. She slugs his shoulder.

Chloe's discomfort radiates, and while everyone around Beca and Jesse stares at them, everyone around Chloe and Aubrey glances at Chloe. She shifts the plate of macaroni salad, which Aubrey was actually enjoying, onto the ground then moves to sit beside her on the log. She inhales and looks off to the side then takes a lengthy swallow from the bottle of beer, tilting her head back to finish off the bottle. She swallows then lowers the bottle. "I'm going to go get another," she states and places her hand on Aubrey's leg, using it to push herself to her feet. She moves her hand to Aubrey's shoulder once she's standing. "Do you want anything?"

"You don't need another one, Chloe." Aubrey leans over and moves the plate so that it isn't in her way. She tilts her head to look up at Chloe. "Sit down."

Chloe rolls her eyes. "It's just one more." Her fingers slide off Aubrey's shoulder and she walks across the beach toward the coolers. She tosses her empty bottle into a box with everyone else's empty bottles then bends over and starts rustling through the ice in the coolers for what she wants.

Aubrey glances from Chloe to Beca - who is too caught up in Jesse and a few other Trebles to notice her effect on Chloe. She lowers her hands to the log and picks at the bark with her nails as she turns to stare at the fire. At least Bumper is nowhere to be found. But on second that, that is actually more concerning than relieving. She looks away from the fire again as Chloe returns and sits down beside her, offering her a peach flavored cooler. She takes it and uses the loose sleeve of Chloe's sweatshirt to twist open the cap.

Chloe uses the bottom of her sweatshirt to twist open her beer. She tosses the cap onto the plate and raises the bottle in Aubrey's direction.

Seeing nowhere else to put her bottle cap, Aubrey tosses it on the plate along side Chloe's. "To Craphole Island." She raises her bottle and clinks it against Chloe's.

"To Mystery Friggin' Island," Chloe challenges with a smirk, not yet taking a drink from her beer.

Aubrey can't help the grin that spreads across her face. "The Magical Forest," she accepts the challenge.

"Monkey Island," Chloe shoots back without pausing even for a second to think.

"Mount Vesuvius," Aubrey quips.

"The Heart of Darkness," Chloe comes back easily.

"God Forsaken Rock." Aubrey's drink is getting warm. She holds up a hand to stop Chloe from spouting out another name. "I'm not watching LOST with you anymore. This is proof that it's not good for you." She takes a sip of her drink.

"You started it." Chloe tucks her legs up beside her on the log and scoots over, pressing into Aubrey's side and leaning against her. She tilts her beer bottle against her lips then rests it on Aubrey's knee and lowers her head against Aubrey's shoulder.

Aubrey is about to take another drink but stops and looks down at Chloe. "Are you cold?" She glances at her beach bag, ready to grab the blanket she brought, but Chloe shakes her head. "Tired?" she guesses again. She's not sure how Chloe could possibly be tired after sleeping all day.

Chloe glance up at her and shakes her head again. "Mm mm." She nuzzles her face against Aubrey's shoulder with a quiet sigh and looks at the fire.

Aubrey blinks. She can't think of another logical conclusion as to why Chloe is being this clingy. She decides it's probably because of Beca, hesitates, wraps an arm around her, then lets it go. But she forgets to look away from her.

The flames of the fire flicker and dance, shooting up toward the sky and illuminating Chloe's face in a way that makes her eyes glimmer as she stares at the burning wood with a look of intense thought - her lips pursed and her brows drawn together. She tucks a strand of hair, deep red in the light, behind her ear then scratches her head and watches a sudden flare of sparks disappear into the night sky - her eyes following the last glowing ember until it burns out. Her chest expands against Aubrey's side, pressing them closer together, as she inhales an idle breath. She finds Aubrey's hand with her own - intertwining their fingers and lazily sliding her thumb back and forth across her skin. The corner of her lips quirks up in a slight smirk that quickly plays across her entire face as she glances up at Aubrey and catches her staring. "What?"

"Nothing," Aubrey answers without missing a beat. She immediately looks away and toward the fire, trying to suppress a smile. She's read the entire dictionary (twice) and a good portion of the thesaurus, and she wonders if Chloe knows that there are no words to adequately describe her in either of those. There should be a word to describe the crooked smile that spreads across Chloe's face as she tucks half of her face into Aubrey's shoulder. Aubrey rolls her eyes at herself. She's not sure when she became such a sap, or if she even thinks that's a bad thing. Chloe is always sappy after all. She covers for herself anyway. "I'm just hoping no one mistakes your red hair for the fire. I don't want to cut it again, this time because you have roasted marshmallows stuck in it."

Chloe playfully elbows her in the side then lifts her head and holds her beer bottle up to her lips - pausing before she takes a sip. "They wouldn't roast over my hair," she points out. She downs a gulp of beer. "But they might melt next to other parts of me." She elbows Aubrey's side a few more times.

Aubrey groans and swats her arm away. "Next to your raging ego," she agrees then focuses on her own alcohol.

"You are so mean!" Chloe pouts and lightly shoves her.

Aubrey nearly chokes on her drink. "Chloe, stop." She has a feeling her words are useless and leans over to put her drink down before Chloe can manage to make her spill it on herself. "You're drunk."

"No, I'm not." Chloe maneuvers herself so she's kneeling on the log, facing Aubrey. She slides her arms around Aubrey's neck, holding her bottle by the neck of it and letting it rest over Aubrey's shoulder. She leans her forehead against the side of Aubrey's head and inhales a silent breath. "You smell really good," she murmurs.

"And you smell like beer." Aubrey pries Chloe's fingers away from the beer bottle. Chloe also smells like blackberries from a fruity perfume she wears, and simply like Chloe - which is even better. But Aubrey doesn't give her the satisfaction of knowing she smells good as well. She places Chloe's bottle next to her own then turns and wraps her arms around her, forcing her to sit down correctly so that she doesn't fall off the log or something. Chloe curls back into her and Aubrey keeps her arms around her to keep her still.

"Be quiet!" Amy yells from across the other side of the fire, causing everyone to look in her direction. "Be quiet!" She clears her throat and steps into view with a beer in one hand and a flashlight in the other. "I'm going to tell a ghost story." She pauses. "Well, it's more like a scary story, but..." She shrugs.

Aubrey stares at her. Is everyone drunk but her? She glances at Chloe who breaks out of her grip and leans forward with interest. Aubrey keeps one arm wrapped around her. She wants to remind her that last time she heard a horror story, she slept with the light on for a week. But at least she isn't thinking of Beca. Aubrey sits up straight, ready to hear the story.

Amy focuses the flashlight under her chin and strikes a pose with one arm out to the side. She zeros in on the ocean. "Once upon a time," she starts dramatically then closes her eyes and lowers her arm to her side in a fluid motion.

Aubrey has low hopes for this story already. She glances at Chloe and they share a look.

Amy lowers her voice and speaks in a raspier tone. "Mr. Cluck's Chicken Shack closed down..."

"No, I'm pretty sure that was KFC," Stacie interrupts her.

"No, it was Mr. Cluck's Chicken Shack," Amy resumes her regular voice and straightens up.

"No." Stacie shakes her head. "And if you're going to tell a real horror story, it would be Victoria's Secret that shuts down. Or maybe that adult shop on Route -"

"Enough!" Aubrey cuts them off. It's routine. She doesn't even realize what she's done until the words slip out of her mouth. But people are starting to look back and forth between each other and the humiliation Aubrey is feeling is akin to that time at Sigma Beta Theta's Annual Fall Mixer. She should not still feel responsible for the Bellas, yet somehow it's as though their words and actions still reflect on her. That, and she just doesn't want them embarrassing themselves. She lets go of Chloe and gets to her feet then marches up to Amy and steals the flashlight from her hands. "Sit down," she commands under her breath and motions her away with a wave of her fingers.

Amy flops her arms against her sides and walks over to Stacie. She sits down beside her and Sophia - who is fast asleep, sprawled out on a blanket.

"Does anyone here have a real horror story?" Aubrey spins in a circle, holding the flashlight out to anyone willing to stand up and take it. "Anyone?" She'd tell one herself, but storytelling has never exactly been her forte. No one else would understand the horrors of Global Warming or a stock market crash. She turns to Chloe, who she has no doubt is creative enough to come up with something on the spot. "Chloe?" she volunteers her.

Chloe presses her lips together and off to the side and makes her 'thinking face' for a second. She shakes her head and shrugs her shoulders.

"I got one," Cynthia-Rose announces and gets to her feet. She walks over to Aubrey and holds her hand out for the flashlight.

Aubrey isn't sure if she's relieved to be handing the spotlight over to another Bella or not, but she places the flashlight in Cynthia-Rose's hand and backs up over to Chloe again. She glances behind her then sits down.

"Sorry," Chloe whispers and looks up at her.

Aubrey glances down at her and smiles. "It's okay," she whispers back. She turns and looks at Cynthia-Rose again. Chloe leans forward again with her arms on her legs.

"A long time ago back in, like, '75, yeah, '75, a couple, young couple, decided to get married right after college," Cynthia-Rose starts.

Beca's eyebrows shoot up. Jesse leans back against a log, an entertained grin plastered across his face.

"Now the bride's mama's sugar daddy lived in this swag mansion in Palm Beach and was able to afford this big ass wedding," Cynthia-Rose continues. She clears her throat. "Now, long story short, the wedding was nice and they got married."

Chloe leans over closer to Aubrey. "Do you think they used the word swag back in '75?" she whispers.

Aubrey glances at her out of the corner of her eye. She shakes her head then resumes listening to the story.

"After the wedding, they had a reception in some old building and everyone got wasted," Cynthia-Rose says.

"I'm down for that," Beca murmurs. Jesse leans over and whispers something in her ear that makes her laugh. Aubrey realizes she's watching them and quickly snaps her gaze back to Cynthia-Rose.

"When there were only about twenty people left, the groom decided that they should play hide-and-seek in the building." Cynthia-Rose fiddles with the flashlight, turning it on and off. "Everyone agreed and the groom was 'it'. So everyone else went and hid in the building and the game went on."

"Where did the fat people hide?" Amy interrupts her.

"Probably in the refrigerator," Stacie suggests.

Amy looks at her. "How did they fit with all the food?"

Stacie shrugs. "Maybe they ate it."

Amy nods in agreement.

Cynthia-Rose frowns at them. "After about twenty minutes," she interrupts their conversation loudly then resumes her normal voice, "Everyone had been found, except the bride."

Amy raises her hand. "Maybe the fat people ate her too."

"There are no fat people in this story," Cynthia-Rose argues.

Amy pulls her head back.

"That's prejudice," Stacie informs Cynthia-Rose.

"Actually, that's discrimination," Amy murmurs. "Prejudice is if there were no..." She makes a hand-motion toward Cynthia-Rose.

"I thought that was homophobia," Stacie replies.

Cynthia-Rose sighs and makes another attempt at her story. "Everyone tore the whole building apart looking for her and -"

"Well, they obviously didn't tear the whole building apart if they couldn't find her," Stacie cuts in again.

Aubrey suddenly feels like she's surrounded by an entire  _group_  of two-year-olds, and only hers are the ones misbehaving. She leans forward and shoots a look at Stacie and Fat Amy. "Stop talking," she hisses so Cynthia-Rose can continue and get her story overwith. Chloe leans forward and glances at Amy and Stacie then leans back again. She rests her head against Aubrey's shoulder and plays with her fingers.

"And after a few hours," Cynthia-Rose keeps going, "The groom got furious, thinking his wife had gone off with some other guy. Eventually, everyone had to go home." She turns the flashlight over in her hands. "The groom filed a missing person's report, but he gave up lookin' for her after a few weeks. He went and got himself a new bitch and moved on with his life."

"After only a few weeks?" Beca asks incredulously. "He didn't even look for a few months?"

Aubrey drops her shoulders in defeat and rolls her eyes.

Jesse looks over at Beca. "I'd only give you a few days," he comments. Beca glares and shoves him.

"Now, a few years later, some little old lady was cleanin' the place up," Cynthia-Rose says. "She happened to be in the attic when she saw an old trunk."

"Is that where the fat people hid?" Amy asks.

Cynthia-Rose narrows her eyes. "The old lady dusted off the old trunk, and opened it out of curiosity." She pauses. "Then she screamed at the top of her lungs, ran out of the building, and called the police." She flicks the switch of the flashlight, turning it off, then stands there in silence.

Everyone sitting at the campfire glances around at each other - except for Aubrey, who sits up a little straighter. To her, the end of the story is obvious. The trunk had been where the bride had hid. She glances down at Chloe, who is still staring intently at Cynthia-Rose. "Are you for serious, Chloe?" she whispers. Chloe shoves her leg and otherwise ignores her.

"Why?" Amy finally pipes up.

"The bride had decided to hide in the trunk for the game," Cynthia-Rose answers, speaking slowly. She holds the flashlight under her chin. "And when she sat down, the lid fell and knocked her unconscious and she suffocated. When the old woman found her, she was rotting, her mouth in the shape of a..." She pauses for a brief second then quickly flicks on the flashlight. " _Scream!_ "

It's Chloe nearly leaping out of her skin that causes Aubrey to jump. Aubrey slides backward off the log and hits the sand, still sitting with her legs draped over what was once her seat. "Chloe!" She groans and tries to brush the sand off of her hands against her shirt.

Chloe turns and looks at her. She furrows her brows and gives her a perplexed stare. "What are you doing?" she asks. "It wasn't that scary."

Aubrey gapes at her. "I give up." She turns and tugs her beach bag nearer to her then leans backward with her legs still propped over the log - using the bag as a pillow. She folds her arms and glares at the sky.

Chloe watches her with a slight smile then turns and slides down off the log onto the sand beside her. She lays down with her head on the other half of the bag and looks up at the sky. For a moment, she's silent. Then she lets out a quiet sigh."It's pretty out here," she comments and folds her arms across her stomach. "I wish we could see the stars like this in the city."

Aubrey tilts her head to see around the log and watches someone else take the flashlight for another story. No one seems to be paying any attention to what she and Chloe are doing, putting her at ease. "You'd be teaching me all the constellations if we could," she points out, no stranger to Chloe's enthusiasm for astronomy. Chloe's face lights up like Aubrey has just acknowledged some long lost passion that Chloe thought she forgot. She turns her head in Chloe's direction and watches her stare in awe at all the stars.

"Maybe we should move out of the city. You know, after your internship is done." Chloe turns her head. Her nose brushes against Aubrey's. "We could get a real house."

Aubrey isn't sure she likes where this is going. Sure, she's thought about getting a real house with Chloe - but it would just be an illusion of permanence. What happens when they move on? One day, they will have to go their separate ways. A summer home where they could vacation together is the better choice. "I don't know, Chloe," she answers, not wanting to start something with an outright 'no'. "We can talk about it when we get home."

"Okay." Chloe nods her head. But her disappointment is written clearly across her face, and Aubrey has to look away. Chloe rolls onto her side and props herself up with one arm, resting her other hand on Aubrey's upper abdomen. She hesitates, which Aubrey finds shocking considering the amount of alcohol she's consumed. "But can I ask you something?"

"Now is not the time, Chloe." Aubrey pushes herself up into a sitting position and brushes the sand off her back.

Chloe looks at the ground and props herself up on her elbows. She nods smally then moves to sit back up on the log. She crosses one arm over in front of her and rests her other elbow on her leg, propping her head up with her fist and staring forward at the fire.

Aubrey looks away. She shifts herself back up onto the log as well and focuses on brushing the sand off of herself - determined to not miss a single grain.

"Well, well, well," Bumper's voice is suddenly the equivalent of sandpaper against Aubrey's eardrums. Her head snaps up and she subconsciously shifts closer to Chloe, accidentally bumping into her.

Chloe lifts her head and her hands falls to the small of Aubrey's back."Are you okay?

"I'm fine." Aubrey nods at her then resumes her futile attempt to pick all of the grains of sand off her shirt. The air is suddenly lacking oxygen. She clenches her jaw and watches as Bumper steals the flashlight they were using to tell stories with.

"Let's get this party started!" Bumper announces.

"You're acting weird again, Aubrey," Chloe whispers.

Aubrey glances at her but then her gaze is drawn to Beca as she stands up and approaches Bumper from behind.

"Bumper," Beca tries to get his attention.

Bumper holds the flashlight out to the side and spins around in a circle. "If it isn't the -" He doesn't get a chance to finish his sentence.

Beca's fist connects with his face and knocks him flat on his ass.

 


	27. Twenty-Seven

**Arrhythmia**

* * *

  
_Come up to meet you,_   
_Tell you I'm sorry._   
_You don't know how lovely you are._   
_I had to find you,_   
_Tell you I need you,_   
_Tell you I set you apart._   
_\- Coldplay_   


* * *

"Oh my god." It's Chloe who breaks the silence that lingers for far too long. She covers her mouth with her hand and takes a step back, bumping into the log. Aubrey isn't sure when exactly she or Chloe (or anyone else, for that matter) stood up, but everyone is suddenly on their feet - gaping at Beca and at Bumper sitting on the ground.

Beca grimaces and clutches her fist, pivoting on her heel away from Bumper and massaging her knuckles. "Shit," she hisses under her breath.

Aubrey is still trying to process that she punched him.

"Am I bleeding?" Bumper mumbles through his hand, which he presses against his mouth and nose. He pulls it back and looks at the crimson liquid on his hand. "Yeah." He nods."Yeah, I'm bleeding." He holds his hand in the air. "I'm bleeding!" No one moves to help him.

Aubrey glances at him for a fraction of a second before her gaze is drawn back to Beca. She realizes that her mouth is wide open and quickly closes it. It occurs to her all too clearly that Beca may have punched him due to their talk. But that is all that's clear. The rest of her thoughts are racing so quickly that she can't pinpoint a single feeling linking to that possibility. She just stares at her.

Jesse is the first one to approach Beca. He closes the few feet of distance between them - the perplexed look on his face only growing more and more pronounced. His forehead creases, as does the area around the corners of his eyes. He makes a slight hand-motion in Bumper's direction and doesn't say a word. Instead, his lips just purse together in a silent, 'What was that about?'

"We talked about this, Beca," Dr. Mitchell's voice booms all too suddenly. He storms across the beach in her direction, drawing everyone's attention.

"Yeah, yeah, I know," Beca answers and glances in his direction. "That conversation we had when I was five? 'Don't hit people, Beca, it's not nice?' See, I paid attention." She looks back down at her knuckles. "Jesus."

"You're not a child anymore, Beca," Dr. Mitchell scolds her. "You're getting married. It's about time you stopped acting like a kid."

"Are you serious?" Beca looks up and straightens her posture. "You're yelling at me in front of about fifty other people," she points out. "If I'm not a child, maybe you should stop treating me like one." Her voice raises. "Did you stop to think maybe he deserved it?"

"Bec..." Jesse starts and moves to touch her arm.

"Get off, Jesse." Beca shoves him away. She looks at her father again and laughs incredulously. "You're unbelievable." She turns and storms across the beach - in the direction that Aubrey had met her in earlier.

"I'm fine," Bumper calls out and finally pushes himself to his feet. He raises both hands in the air and turns in a circle. There is blood streaming down his face. "I'm fine, by the way."

Chloe moves her hand away from her mouth. "Beca!" She walks after her, following her across the beach. Aubrey is hot on their trail without a second thought - and, with a glance back, she realizes so are the other Bellas. The exact reason she's following Beca is unbeknownst to her, but, for once, it has absolutely nothing to do with Chloe. She picks up her pace.

Beca stops a distance away from the bonfire and turns to face Chloe. "Dude, he had it coming," she explains.

"That doesn't mean you hit people, Beca." Chloe slows down and walks in front of her. She shakes her head and pries Beca's hand away from her knuckles. She lifts her hand by her fingers and examines it. Aubrey doesn't understand how Chloe so quickly seems to dismiss the incident in the kitchen from her mind just to make sure Beca is okay. Or how Beca appears to do the same.

"He had it coming," Beca repeats. She looks over at Aubrey out of the corner of her eye as Aubrey comes to a stop beside them. She gives a half-nod - not quite enough of a gesture for Chloe to notice, but Aubrey sees it. And it's enough to confirm that Beca punched Bumper in the face for her.

Aubrey's jaw goes slack. She wants to ask her why. She stares at her and searches her expression for any clues to an explanation, and she wants to get her alone again and ask her what the hell she was thinking. Her lips part in confusion, because why would Beca Mitchell stick up for her? There is a sudden rush of safety that she feels as though she hasn't felt in days. She can't decide whether or not she hates it. Her panic dwindles and she forces it to take a chunk of her pride with it. "Thank you," she mouths silently so Chloe doesn't hear.

Beca locks eyes with her but she doesn't mouth anything back. Aubrey knows that if she did, Chloe would notice. Beca looks away from her and back at Chloe, who is examining her knuckles closely. "Am I dying?" she deadpans.

Chloe's lips twist into a small smile. "I don't think so," she answers. She lifts Beca's hand and lightly presses her lips to Beca's knuckles - the same way she kissed Aubrey's injured arm. Beca stiffens and doesn't relax until Chloe pulls away and pats her hand. "I think you'll be okay," Chloe informs her lightly.

Beca looks over as the rest of the Bellas finally start to catch up with them. Chloe turns her head as well. Aubrey's eyes linger on the two of them for a fraction of a second longer - partially noting how Beca doesn't actively pull away her hand. It absently drops to her side and Chloe slowly lets it go. Aubrey closes the distance between herself and Chloe on autopilot, grabbing her hand and lacing her fingers. She latches onto her without fully realizing what's she doing, most of her mind on Bumper while the rest doesn't want Chloe being intimate with Beca.  _'You don't want to be left out'_  flitters through her head, but she quickly dismisses the thought as foolish. Her hand subconsciously tightens around Chloe's.

Chloe looks up at her. She offers a tiny, puzzled smile and squeezes Aubrey's fingers.

"That was badass," Cynthia-Rose states immediately, clearly impressed, as she's first to catch up with Beca, Aubrey, and Chloe. "You almost knocked that boy out."

"Badass," Amy repeats, panting for air, as she brings up the rear. She pauses for a moment and bends over with her hands on her legs to catch her breath. She lifts one hand and offers her fist toward Beca. Beca fistbumps her with the hand she didn't use on Bumper.

Aubrey has still yet to figure out Fat Amy and Bumper, and that action doesn't make it easier. Did Amy just fistbump Beca for hitting her boyfriend? She purses her lips together and furrows her brows. If anyone were to ever lay a hand on Chloe, they would regret even having hands. (Not that Chloe is her girlfriend.) She just doesn't understand Fat Amy and Bumper.

Lily murmurs something. Aubrey has no idea what she said, but it distracts her from Amy. She glances up at the rest of the Bellas. She notices immediately that two of them are missing. She does a roll call in her head. Jessica and Ashley. She rolls her eyes in frustration even though they're not her concern anymore.

Chloe stands silently beside Aubrey, also scanning the other Bellas - but there isn't a clue in her expression as to what's going through her mind. Surely not roll call.

"So why'd you hit him?" Stacie pipes up. She folds her arms across her chest. Aubrey's gaze snaps in Beca's direction.

Beca opens her mouth to speak, but Aubrey isn't sure if she trusts whatever excuse she's going to use - despite that she already told Beca that Chloe doesn't need to know about any of this. "We should get back to the bonfire," she cuts Beca off before she has a chance to say anything.

Beca points a thumb in Aubrey's direction.

Is Beca actually  _agreeing_  with her without argument? Aubrey pulls her head back and watches her out of the corner of her eye. She decides there will be time for suspicion back at the fire. She turns back to the rest of the Bellas.

"I'm bored at the fire," Stacie complains and looks off to the side, toward the water. "I'm bored here."

"Me too, Beca," Cynthia-Rose agrees.

"What?" Beca asks.

Stacie nods. "We're bored."

Beca sighs. Her arms hang limply at her sides. "Amy?" she asks and looks at her. "Are you bored?"

Amy waves her hand in a 'sort of' motion and nods her head.

"Chloe?" Beca asks more hopefully and turns her head.

"Of course, I'm not bored." Chloe shakes her head and  _tries_  to sound convincing. "I'm having tons of fun." Aubrey gives her an A+ for effort. Now if only she would put that much effort into laundry, buying healthy groceries, dishes, picking her wet towels up off the bathroom floor...

Beca breathes a laugh and looks away from Chloe and at everyone else. "Really?" she asks. "You're at the beach on an island."

Stacie just shrugs.

"You can go swimming," Beca states and stretches her arm out toward the ocean.

"All day, Beca?" Cynthia-Rose asks.

Beca slaps her hand down against her side and clenches her jaw - gritting her teeth.

"Beca, it's not really that bad here..." Chloe shrugs her shoulders. "You're just really busy and you haven't given  _us_  a lot to do."

"You want me to put you to work?" Beca asks and stares at her.

Chloe gives a half-shrug.

Aubrey frowns and looks down at her - still unable to comprehend why she would want to be so involved in Beca's wedding.

"Fine," Stacie pipes back up out of nowhere. She crosses her arms in front of her and grips the hem of her shirt then pulls it off - revealing a red, lace bra underneath. She drops her shirt on the sand.

Beca glances over and her and then does a double-take.

"Stacie!" Aubrey hisses and lets go of Chloe's hand. She closes some of the distance between them and grabs Stacie's shirt up off the ground. "What are you doing?" she demands.

"She said go swimming." Stacie lifts her leg and slides the back of her sandal off her heel then kicks off her shoe and removes the other one as well.

"Put your shirt on." Aubrey firmly shoves the shirt at Stacie.

Stacie straightens herself up and unbuttons her pants.

"You know, swimming's not a bad idea, Aubrey," Chloe cuts in.

"Chloe, keep your clothes on." Aubrey pushes Stacie's shirt against her chest and lets it go. It falls back into the sand. She crosses back over to Chloe and grabs the bottom of her sweatshirt before Chloe can lift it up over her head. "There are Trebles and Beca's and Jesse's families right over there." She motions toward the direction of the bonfire with her free hand.

"Lighten up, Aubrey." Chloe stands up straighter and leans in so their noses are touching. Her breath reeks of beer. She rolls her eyes. "It's not like you've never gone skinny-dipping before."

"That was different," Aubrey argues, keeping her voice low so none of the other Bellas can hear her. "And that was one time." Chloe fingers move to unbutton Aubrey's pants. Aubrey pushes them away. "This is a bad idea, Chloe." The sound of a zipper attracts Aubrey's attention and she turns her head to see Amy's pants fall down around her ankles. "Amy!" She expects the four remaining Bellas to side with her, but they all just stand there uselessly.

"You can't really boss us around anymore, Aubrey," Amy says - almost hesitantly. She glances around at the other Bellas for support. They all look in opposite directions. Amy kicks her shoes and pants off.

"Relax, Aubrey." Chloe presses a kiss to her cheek. She takes three steps back then crosses her arms in front of herself and peels her sweatshirt off - followed by her t-shirt. She reaches her arms behind her back and fiddles with her bra strap. "Can you unlatch this?"

"Chloe!" Aubrey yells.

Chloe cringes and looks down. She unlatches her bra herself.

Aubrey's throat goes dry the moment Chloe's bra hits the sand with her shirt and sweatshirt and Chloe straightens up. She's seen Chloe's breasts and toned stomach enough (in public, even), but never under the moonlight where the shadows try to draw her in for a closer look - almost taunting her to trail her fingers along Chloe's smooth skin and explore what she can't see. Chloe obliviously unbuttons her pants then pauses and absently scratches the bridge of her nose.

Aubrey shakes her head and turns to look at Beca - clenching her jaw and glaring hard. She expects Beca to be staring at Chloe, but instead, she's focused on the sand at her feet. "They can't go swimming in the nude, Beca," she admonishes. In no way does she need help wrangling the Bellas back in, but this is Beca's fault. Beca should take care of it. "They can't go swimming at all; they're drunk."

Beca lifts her head with a sheepish, closed-lipped grin.

Aubrey looks away from her and her jaw nearly hits the ground when she realizes that Lily is already completely naked. Her gaze snaps to the only two Bellas (aside from Beca) left dressed - Cynthia-Rose and Denise. "Do not take your clothes off," she warns them.

Cynthia-Rose stares hard at her for a moment then heaves a sigh and rolls her eyes. She tugs her shirt up over her head - and Denise immediately follows suit.

Aubrey tries to make words. Cynthia-Rose is supposed to be one of the reasonable ones. "Cynthia-Rose," she addresses her calmly and smoothly - forcing a smile that she hopes will convince Cynthia-Rose to listen to her. "This is completely -"

"I can make my own decisions," Cynthia-Rose replies tersely and drops her shirt next to her feet.

"I'm going swimming," Chloe announces out loud.

Aubrey spins around just in time to see Chloe's panties hit the ground. She's not going to listen later when Chloe is complaining about sand being in places where sand should not be. "No, you're not, Chloe," she argues. "You're putting your clothes back on."

"Jesus," Beca cuts in. "Let them have some fun, Aubrey."

Aubrey turns her head. She folds her arms across her chest. "I don't see you taking your clothes off, Beca," she points out.

Beca's eyes widen to the size of silver dollars. "Dude." She takes a step back.

Aubrey's brows raise at Beca's reaction. She turns to face her fully. "I know that you know how to swim," she states. "Chloe said you tried out for your high school's swim team."

Beca side-glances toward the water. "I didn't make it," she retaliates.

"But you almost did." Aubrey takes a step forward. Maybe Chloe rambling about Beca isn't always such a bad thing. "So you can take your clothes off and go out there and make sure none of them drown."

Beca moves backward again and adamantly shakes her head. "No."

"Then you convince them to stay out of the water and put their clothes back on," Aubrey all but demands.

Beca turns to face the Bellas - who are on their way toward the water. "Guys!" she calls after them in a pathetic, half-hearted yell. Not one of them turns around.

Aubrey raises her eyebrows again and motions with her hand in the direction of the water. "For serious, Beca, get them back here!" she commands.

"What am I supposed to do?" Beca growls. "Drag them in one by one? Yell 'shark'?"

"Yes, Beca," Aubrey snaps back. "That is exactly what you're supposed to do."

"Jesus Christ," Beca mutters and faces the water.

"Oh, maybe He'll help you walk on the water to go retrieve them," Aubrey suggests in feigned amusement and rolls her eyes. She tightens her arms across her chest and turns away from Beca.

"That's not..." Beca sputters. "I...Dude, you go out there."

Aubrey scoffs at the idea. "You're the one who suggested they go swimming," she reminds her.

Chloe stops at the edge of the water where the waves are lapping the beach as the rest of the Bellas wade out until the water is up past their waists. She inhales deeply enough that Aubrey can see her shoulder muscles tense then stretches and arches her back, sliding her hands down either side of her spine until their heels dig into her lower back and the pads of her fingers press against her rear. "Are you two coming or what?" she calls. She looks over her shoulder and glances at Aubrey and Beca then turns around again with a slight huff and folds her arms.

"It's cold, Chloe!" Aubrey tries to develop an excuse that Chloe might actually listen to. "And you're drunk."

Chloe turns her head again and gives Aubrey a once over that almost convinces her that her clothes might be see-through. She lifts her shoulder in a half-shrug then follows the rest of the ladies out into the bay.

Aubrey's arms fall limply down by her sides. This is  _not_  defeat. She glances at Beca out of the corner of her eye and realizes that Beca is just staring at the ocean. And that now she's stuck with her alone again. Not even in a situation where she can ask about Bumper without the risk of being overheard. She turns her head and stares hard at Chloe's silhouette. The Bellas voices and laughter echoes across the beach. She inhales deeply then exhales.

Beca makes an annoying clicking noise with her tongue and momentarily leans back on her heels. There is the sound of splashing water and then Chloe's shrill giggle.

Aubrey clenches her jaw. It's not as though she has to take all of her clothes off to go out there and watch over Chloe. She immediately dismisses the thought. She's not even thinking about going out there. Although someone sober should probably be out there making sure that no one drowns. It just shouldn't be her. No, she is more than content standing in silence next to Beca. She frowns and glares at Beca out of the corner of her eye.

Beca glances at her then does a double take. "I'm not going out there," she states.

Aubrey stares her down.

Beca shuffles a few steps to the side. She looks at the water then glances at Aubrey out of the corner of her eye.

The corners of Aubrey's lips twitch. If she wants something done, she's going to have to do it herself. She scowls and roughly grabs the hem of her shirt then tugs the material up over her head, because  _someone_  has to go out there and make sure no one drowns.

Beca utters a laugh of surprise. "Are you serious?" she asks and takes another step away.

"Dixie Chicks serious," Aubrey bites and folds her shirt then bends over and places it on the sand - uncomfortably aware that she is standing next to Beca in her bra. "Someone has to go out there." She stands up straight and swallows thickly as she kicks off her shoes and unbuttons her pants.

Beca raises her brows and stares at her, breathing out another laugh.

"Pick up your jaw, Beca." Aubrey shimmies out of her pants and folds those as well. "I've seen you in less."

Beca's mouth shuts immediately.

Aubrey straightens up and debates whether or not she's going to take off her bra and panties. On one hand, if she leaves them on, she's going to have to deal with putting her dry clothes back on over them. On the other, if she takes them off, she's going to have to shamefully walk naked across the beach in front of none other than Beca. She chooses to leave them on. "If you're going to stand here and be useless, watch my stuff." She crosses her arms in a futile attempt to hide her bare stomach and strides across the sand - the ocean breeze sending chills down her spine.

"Seriously?" Beca calls after her. Out of the corner of her eye, Aubrey can see Beca look around then start to unbutton her shirt.

xxxxx

The first wave is a shock of cold ocean foam that rushes up past Aubrey's ankles then gives her a rush of vertigo as it's dragged back out to sea. The second is warmer and she follows it out. Her gaze drifts in the direction of the dim light of the bonfire. It's plausible that people will come looking for them - or, looking for Beca. She quickens her pace, drags her feet across the sand, and pushes against the current until the water is nearly up to her chest and she can duck down to hide her bra.

"Look what the tide brought in," Cynthia-Rose comments.

Amy glances around. "I think it's high-tide," she corrects her. "It would take her out."

Aubrey just turns and tries to seek out Chloe. She can't keep track of everyone with no light, but she can at least make sure Chloe isn't being washed out to sea. She spins in a circle and gets halfway around when out of nowhere someone collides with her side, knocking her off her feet and tackling her under the surface of the water. Her first instinct is to exhale a strong breath through her nose to avoid sucking in any water. Her second instinct is to panic, but by then, she already knows who her assailant is. Five seconds of blowing bubbles underwater later, she's allowed to resurface. "Chloe!" she sputters. She wipes her face with her hands and pushes her hair out of her face. "What the hell?!"

Chloe snakes her arms around Aubrey's neck then hoists herself up and wraps her legs around her waist. She presses her forehead against Aubrey's, while Aubrey is still trying to wipe the water from her face, then pushes their noses together. "I knew you'd come to your senses." She grins and squeezes her with both her arms and legs.

"I feel like I'm losing my senses." Aubrey drops her arms to her sides. "Get off, Chloe." She's fairly certain that Chloe has more suction power than an octopus.

"Why are you still wearing clothes?" Chloe traces Aubrey's bra straps with her fingers.

Aubrey opens her mouth to answer then pauses when she notices Beca approaching them, still wearing a tanktop (and probably underwear). "Beca is still wearing clothes," she points out and shifts Chloe's attention.

Chloe's head whips around, her hair smacking Aubrey in the face. "Beca!" She releases her grip on Aubrey and lowers herself back to her feet. She's oblivious to the look of discomfort on Beca's face and grabs her by the fabric of her shirt, pulling her in closer. "I am so glad you came to your senses too."

Beca's voice raises an octave. "Yeah." She nods and looks away from her. "I'm just gonna go over there." She points in the direction of the other Bellas.

"Why?" Chloe pulls her in closer, their faces only centimeters apart. "Stay here with us."

"Chloe." Aubrey shifts her weight from one foot to the other. She's beginning to doubt that she can keep an inevitable explosion of Chloe's emotions from happening this week.

Chloe turns her head. "It's not fair, Aubrey," she whimpers.

Aubrey stares at her, feeling suddenly out of tune with her surroundings. She swallows.

Chloe turns back away. She lets go of Beca's shirt and takes a half of a step back.

Beca stares at her. She opens her mouth, presumably to speak, but no words come out.

Chloe shakes her head. "You don't get to decide whether or not it's fair, Beca." She steps back again and glances off to the side at an incoming wave.

Aubrey watches her for a moment, trying to piece the thoughts in her head together. She shifts her gaze to Beca, but gets distracted by a human silhouette. The moonlight reflects off a badge. "Chloe," she hisses tersely and steps behind her, dropping down so the water is nearly up to her neck.

Chloe lifts her head and frowns at her. "What, Aubrey?"

Beca follows Aubrey's gaze. "Fuck," she murmurs and inches a step closer to her.

Chloe turns her head to face the sheriff. She draws in a breath and immediately straightens up, crossing her arms over her breasts. She glances back at Aubrey then takes a step back and bumps into her.

"Out of the water, Girls," Mills announces, drawing in the attention of the rest of the Bellas as well. He hooks his thumbs through his belt loops and stares in Aubrey's direction, not directly as her, but past the side of her head. "I need a word, Aubrey."


	28. Twenty-Eight

**Arrhythmia**

* * *

  
_Come up to meet you,_   
_Tell you I'm sorry._   
_You don't know how lovely you are._   
_I had to find you,_   
_Tell you I need you,_   
_Tell you I set you apart._   
_\- Coldplay_   


* * *

"I am so sorry," Aubrey apologizes for the five-hundredth time. Her cheeks are flushed a deep shade of crimson. She bites back the tears stinging her eyes, swallows the bile in her throat, and wrestles her pants on over her wet skin. The fabric sticks uncomfortably to her legs. She tugs the button into the hole then quickly pulls up the zipper. The rest of the Bellas also tug their clothes on with frightening speed - except for Stacie, who takes a bit more time to make sure nothing is on backwards. "I promise you, Sir, nothing like this will happen again."

Mill stands with his back to them as they put their clothes on. "You know, I could have you all arrested for this," he points out. He makes an ambiguous hand motion back toward the ocean. "Swimming past hours. Removing your clothes in  _public_."

Aubrey's entire face burns and her jaw trembles. Never in her life has she been arrested. She can only imagine what a record could do to her future career.  _Public Misdemeanor._ This could ruin her entire life. She quickly pulls her shirt on over her head and forces her arms through the sleeves then pulls the fabric down over her stomach. Her mouth tastes bitter. The fully typed email she has drafted on her computer to send to her father after she lands a real job could never get sent.

"Aubrey, it's okay," Chloe mouths to her silently. She finishes buttoning her pants and picks up her shirt. "He's not going to do anything." Aubrey ignores her and slips on her shoes.

"Sir, I'm too young for life in prison," Cynthia-Rose pipes up. "If I'm gonna be gettin' arrested, it's gotta be when I'm at least ninety and don't have a lot of years left to live."

"At least you're assured three meals a day," Amy tries to comfort her. She looks at Mills. "It is still three, right?"

"It's still three," Mills deadpans.

"Dude, shouldn't you be reading us our Miranda Rights or something?" Beca straightens up from putting her shoes on.

"This is Beca's second time being arrested," Amy speaks out of the corner of her mouth. "She knows the ropes better than you do, Officer." She laughs and slaps her leg. Everyone, minus Mills, turns to look at her. Her laughter turns into a coughing noise then fades out.

Aubrey is almost positive she is going to vomit.

"No one is getting arrested," Mills states. He pauses. "I have bigger fish to fry in this town than you yahoos."

_Yahoos?_ Aubrey frowns. She is a respectable young woman. She swallows and looks in his direction - wondering if and how his 'bigger fish' have anything to do with her.

"Are y'all dressed?" Mills asks.

Aubrey glances over at Chloe who has somehow managed to get stuck in her shirt while trying to find her sleeves. She closes the distance between them and helps her turn her shirt around and put it on correctly. She glances at the other Bellas to make sure they all have their clothes on then sniffles and looks at the sheriff's back. "Yes, Sir." She kneels down and grabs Chloe's sweatshirt off the sand then hands it to her.

Mills clears his throat and turns around. He scans all of the Bellas, looking at all of them except for Aubrey. "Get back to your fire," he demands. "And don't let me catch you doing anything you shouldn't be doing again. You got it?" Most of them nod. All of them start to drag themselves back in the direction of the fire.

Except for Chloe. She hugs her sweatshirt and stands by Aubrey's side.

Mills looks at her. "Well, git," he demands.

Chloe lifts her head and draws in a breath. She silently glances up at Aubrey, suddenly ten times more mellow than minutes before when she had been trying to convince her to rip off her clothes and jump into the ocean. She doesn't argue with the sheriff - just resigns and takes a step in the direction of the fire.

Aubrey grabs her by the arm. She can't let her go back to the fire with Beca, and she can't let her alone while she's intoxicated either. "She's with me," she states and draws Chloe back to her side.

Mills looks at Aubrey for a fraction of a second then shifts his gaze to Chloe - staring at her for a few seconds longer. Studying her, almost. Not with the look of 'good egg' he gets when he looks at Aubrey. Aubrey frowns.

Chloe rubs one of her eyes with the back of her hand then resumes hugging her sweatshirt - staring off in the direction of the fire.

Aubrey realizes she's going to have a limited amount of time to get her into bed before she passes out. Aubrey will be damned if she has to carry her.

Mills finally gives a grunt of approval. "Let's go," he demands and starts walking.

An eerie feeling creeps down Aubrey's spine as she steps in the direction she's told to go. She tries to shake it off. A breeze sends a shiver through her body.

Chloe tugs on her arm. "Aubrey, we have to get our stuff," she whispers.

Aubrey looks down at her, having almost completely forgotten about her bag. She looks in the direction of the fire then at the back of Mills' head. "Sir, our stuff is still at the bonfire."

"Those people at that fire your friends?" Mills inquires.

Aubrey blinks then nods her head. "Yes, Sir." She looks at Chloe then back at the fire.

"Then someone'll notice and take your stuff back to your room." Mills keeps walking in the same direction, back toward the main road. "That or you'll get it in the morning."

Aubrey places a hand on Chloe's shoulder and picks up her pace so she's nearly walking beside him. She tries to form words, stuck on the thought of potentially having to return for her bag in the morning - leaving it on the beach all night, where it could be stolen. "Sir, my room key is in there," she lies and hopes it's not visible in her pocket.

"Maggie's got doubles," Mills answers.

Aubrey immediately slows her pace again.

Chloe reaches for Aubrey's hand. "It's okay," she whispers in slurred words. She squeezes her fingers. "We'll come back for it."

"Tell me more about your group," Mills says. "That girl who was arrested before. What was she in for?"

"You mean Beca," Chloe jumps in before Aubrey can even process the question. "She punched an old guy."

Aubrey blinks and tries to recall what exactly happened that night. It feels so long ago. "Chloe, that's not why she was arrested," she reminds her.

"She what?" Mills asks in a flat tone.

"We were at a competition..." Chloe says. She stops hugging her sweatshirt and wrestles it on over her head, nearly tripping as she does so.

Aubrey presses her thumb and pointer finger against her forehead. "Chloe," she tries to stop her. Not only does the sheriff not need to know this, but she can't imagine Chloe telling this story well while intoxicated. It'll lead to Beca getting arrested again and then Chloe crying and begging Aubrey to bail her out.

Chloe ignores her and pulls her sweatshirt down. "And this old guy wanted her...her..." She pauses. "And this old guy wanted some  _other_  guy to shove a trophy up his butt. So Beca punched him. And  _then_  Fat Amy took the trophy and tried to shove it up, well,  _there_. And Beca threw the trophy out the window. And she got arrested for destruction of public property."

Aubrey reaches over and pinches Chloe's arm so she'll stop talking.

"Ow, Aubrey!" Chloe hisses. She pulls her hand away and takes a step to the side, rubbing her arm. "What was that for?"

"He doesn't need to know that, Chloe," Aubrey mouths silently, keeping an eye on the back of Mills' head to make sure he can't see her.

"Anyone else in the wedding party ever been arrested?" Mills asks.

"I don't know," Aubrey answers honestly. She can't speak for anyone outside The Bellas - and she's even unsure of their records.

"What about you two?" Mills glances back at them.

"No, Sir," Aubrey answers quickly before Chloe can. She can't pinpoint a reason she's lying. She swallows hard. The desire to protect Chloe feels like it's consuming her - even though Chloe's two arrests had been minor.

Mills glances at Chloe.

Chloe silently shakes her head.

Mills grunts. He turns his head back around and starts down the main road.

Aubrey turns her head and takes one last look at the bonfire then faces forward. In the distance, blue and red lights flash - flickers that get brighter as they approach them. She furrows her brows. The questions, the lights; it hits her like a brick out of nowhere that two of her Bellas had gone missing from the fire. Her breath catches in her throat and she stumbles to catch up with the sheriff. "Did something happen to someone in the wedding party?" she asks. She tries to remain collected.

"Was everyone from your party at your bonfire?" Mills answers her question with another question.

The corners of Aubrey's lips twitch. If she was her father, she would have gotten to the bottom of this entire thing by now. She straightens her posture and walks directly beside Mills, matching his steps. "I'll make you a deal," she offers him. "I'll give you the name of someone who may have stolen your head spade if you tell me what is going on."

Mills draws to an immediate halt. He turns to face Aubrey. "Deal."

"What's a head spade?" Chloe stops beside the two of them. She stares up at Aubrey. "What is going on, Aubrey?"

Aubrey ignores her. "Bumper Allen," she states firmly.

"Bumper Allen?" Mills confirms the name.

Aubrey nods once. "Your turn." She folds her arms and locks eyes with him.

"Aubrey," Chloe tries again, more forcefully this time.

Mills sighs and drops his shoulders. He glances in the direction of the lights. "Where to start..." He shakes his head.

"Sheriff!" The innkeeper's voice rings from across the street. She looks both ways for cars then shuffles in their direction. "Sheriff, there you are." She pants. "I went to the station, but no one was there."

"Maggie," Mills acknowledges her.

Aubrey exhales a lengthy, exasperated sigh. Chloe continues to stare at her.

"Sheriff, my piano is missing," Maggie jumps straight to the point.

Mills blinks. "Your grand piano went missing?" he asks doubtfully.

"No, no, not that piano, Sheriff," Maggie replies and furiously shakes her head. She speaks without pausing for breath. "My music box in the lobby. It was there this morning when I checked on it, and now it's gone. You know the one. The one my -"

"Yeah, yeah, I know the one," Mills replies. He turns and stares in the direction of the police lights for a moment then bows his head. "I'll have the deputy at The Candlewick by morning."

"By morning?" Maggie takes a step back. "Now, Sheriff..." she tries to reason and persuade him.

"Don't 'now, Sheriff' me," Mills growls out in an unthreatening tone. He turns to Aubrey and Chloe. "You two," he orders, "Stay put." He narrows his eyes at them then leads Maggie off to the side.

Aubrey turns her head and watches him walk away. She drops her hands down by her sides and digs her nails into her palms. The muscles around her mouth twitch.

Mills whispers something in Maggie's ear that causes her to gasp and place her hands over her mouth. It takes all of Aubrey's determination not to go back to the inn and pack her bags at that very moment.

"Aubrey, I have a bad feeling," Chloe whispers. Her voice carries an uncharacteristic hesitancy. "We should be with everyone else."

Aubrey glances down and realizes that Chloe is still staring at her rather than at the sheriff. "It's okay," she mouths reassuringly. But she's beginning to think maybe leaving Chloe with Beca wasn't actually a bad idea. She pats her pocket then pulls out her phone and opens up her contacts. Beca can just run down here, escort Chloe back to the fire (or, better yet, to the inn)...

Chloe grabs her hands and covers her phone's screen with her palm. "You can't stay out here alone." She takes Aubrey's phone and closes her contacts then slips it back into her pocket. "I'm staying with you."

Aubrey lifts her head and looks around. Aside from the flashing lights, the sheriff, and Maggie, the street is empty. Not a cricket chirps. She can hear her own heart pounding in her chest. She turns her gaze back to Chloe. "Call Beca," she tells her calmly. "Tell her something is happening near the ice cream parlor and you need her to pick you up."

Chloe folds her arms tightly across her chest. "I'm not going anywhere without you, Aubrey," she replies adamantly. Her features soften again and her arms loosen. "I just want to make sure you're safe."

Aubrey doesn't have a moment to process her words. The sheriff begins to continue en route down the street and Maggie walks back the way she came. Aubrey lifts her head to watch him go. She grabs Chloe by the arm. "Let's go," she replies simply and begins to follow the sheriff, seeing no other choice. She's not going to go to jail for resisting a police officer.

"I don't like this, Aubrey," Chloe whispers. She peels Aubrey's hand away from her arm and laces their fingers. "I think we should tell him you have to go."

"He's a cop, Chloe." Aubrey practically pulls her down the street. She can see that the cop car is parked outside the ice cream parlor now - along with a civilian car. She decides that the ice cream parlor has been robbed just like the museum and the sheriff is out to blame someone in the wedding party - and thinks she may have some answers. If that's the case, she's eager to help. "You can't just tell the police you have to go."

"This just feels bad, Aubrey," Chloe murmurs. She tightens her grip on Aubrey's hand and slides her other hand into the front pocket of her sweatshirt. She stares at the ice cream parlor as they approach it. "I heard something weird when we were here earlier."

Aubrey slows her pace. She hadn't heard anything. She leans her head down so her lips are closer to Chloe's ear, and she keeps an eye on the back of Mills' head. "What did you hear?" she asks.

Chloe shrugs and focuses on the asphalt as they walk with matching strides. She pulls her hand away from Aubrey's and slips it into her sweatshirt pocket with the other one. "I just thought I heard someone scream." She pauses. "But it was weird." She glances up at Aubrey with a slight grimace then looks back down at the ground. "It sounded weird."

Aubrey weaves between the cars and leads Chloe over to the picnic bench - keeping an eye on Mills as he makes his way to the front door. The lights in the shop are off, but she can see a flashlight waving around through the window. The desire to see inside begins to outweigh the nervous tingling in her stomach. She turns back around to look at Chloe - who has taken her hands out of her pocket and is rubbing them up and down her arms. "Stay here." She places her hands on Chloe's shoulders and presses her down onto the bench seat. She expects a verbal response but Chloe just passively nods.

Chloe pulls her feet up onto the bench with her. She rests her elbow on the table and leans over so her head is resting in the crook of her arm. She drapes her other arm between her legs and midsection and picks at the fabric of her sweatshirt. Her eyelids are beginning to droop, and Aubrey looks back over at the building to debate taking Chloe inside with her. It's probably just a minor robbery after all. Then again, Chloe will be fine where she is.

"For serious, Chloe." Aubrey takes a step back toward the parlor. "Don't go anywhere." She's not sure she has to worry about Chloe wandering off now that. Chloe seems to have mostly started to sober up and looks like she might fall asleep with her head on the bench.

Chloe makes a quiet sniffing noise and lifts her head up off her arm. She rests it against her hand and nods. "Okay," she agrees in barely more than a murmur. Her shoulders are tense and she draws her knees closer to her chest, lifting her hand from her abdomen to pick at the table.

"I'm going to be as quick as I can," Aubrey assures her. Chloe just tangles her fingers up in her wet hair and nods again, not looking at her.

"Aubrey," Mills calls her name.

Aubrey tears her eyes away from Chloe and straightens up. Chloe is a big girl; she can wait for Aubrey outside alone. She walks around the front of the cars and stops beside the parlor door. Somewhere down the road, headlights turn the corner onto the main street and begin to head their way. She focuses on Mills. "I'd like some answers as to why I'm here, Sir," she all but firmly demands.

Mills locks eyes with her, his stony gaze reminding her of her father. "I'm just doing my job," he speaks with authority; the kind of authority that isn't yelling but still has the ability to make Aubrey feel much smaller. "There's been a death on the island."

 


	29. Twenty-Nine

**Arrhythmia**

* * *

  
_I don't want to be a soldier_   
_Who the captain of some sinking ship would stow,_   
_Far below._   
_So, if you love me, why'd you let me go?_   
_\- Coldplay_   


* * *

_There's been a death on the island._

Aubrey doesn't breathe. She steels herself - standing in military position with arms down by her sides. Mills' words are foreign and hold a meaning that she can barely comprehend (not when two of her Bellas have gone missing), but she reacts on autopilot.  _Who?_ She stops asking her questions. They rest on the tip of her tongue, ready to spring forth the moment she decides it's appropriate to make words again.  _How?_ She presses her lips together.  _Chloe thought she heard somebody scream._

"I need you to drive Nikki home," Mills states.

Aubrey blinks and shifts her weight onto one foot. She opens to mouth to talk then pauses, unsure whether or not she heard him correctly. "I'm...I'm sorry. What?" She shakes her head slightly and waits for him to say something that makes more sense to why she's there - as to why he is so curious about the wedding party's arrests. She waits for him to tell her who is dead. Her gaze drifts in the direction of Chloe to make sure she's alright. She's just staring at the ground.

"That girl don't got a lot of friends on this island," Mills continues, and Aubrey still doesn't understand. She looks at him again. "But I know she's been talking to you." He pauses. "I know  _everything_  that goes on on this island, you understand?"

Is that rhetorical? Aubrey stares at him, battling over whether or not he's expecting her to say 'yes'.

"I need you to drive her home," Mills repeats.

"I think I missed something here," Aubrey blurts out. She glances at the door of the ice cream parlor then looks at Mills again. "What about-"

"Do I need to spell it out for you?" Mills cuts her off.

"No, Sir," Aubrey answers immediately, instinctively, and balances her weight on both feet again.

Mills lowers his voice. "That boy hanged himself in there and I need you to drive his sister home while I clean up the mess," he explains in a quiet rumble anyway.

Another car pulls into the parking lot. It temporarily blinds Aubrey with its headlights before the driver turns them off and she's staring at Mills' face again. The wind is knocked out of her in a single instant. The boy who runs the ice cream parlor is dead. But that's not possible; she just spoke to him. Even though she barely knew him, her lungs begin to feel like they're constricting. She swallows hard and turns her head to look at the door - met with her own paling expression in the reflection of the window. She stares past herself and wonders if the knowledge that someone she spoke to less than twenty-four hours ago hanged himself will sink in slowly or just hit her like a brick. She wonders what brought him to do it - what could bring anyone to do that.

"Pick up your jaw," Mills orders.

Aubrey didn't realize her mouth was open. She presses her lips firmly together and glances at Mills then turns to look as a man steps out of the car that pulled in.

Mills follows her gaze. "Dr. Campbell," he greets.

The man solemnly tips his hat. "Sheriff," is his response. He nods back in Chloe's direction. "I don't know where that one came from, but you might wanna be driving her home soon."

_That one_? Aubrey clenches her jaw and shoots him a look (that neither he nor the sheriff seem to notice) then looks over at Chloe. Chloe is falling asleep with her head resting against her hand. Aubrey rolls her eyes in aggravation. She digs her phone out of her pocket and shoots Chloe a text.  _'Chloe, wake up. Call Beca.'_

Chloe's phone must be on vibrate because Chloe shoots upright out of nowhere and slaps her hand down on the table. She looks around with widened eyes before mouthing the word 'oh' and feeling her pocket.

Aubrey shakes her head.

"Or not," Campbell comments. He looks away from Chloe and at Mills.

Chloe slips her phone out of her pocket and nearly drops it as she fumbles to open it. She reads the text then turns around on the bench so her back is to the table and places her feet flat on the ground. "I'm fine," she mouths to Aubrey and closes her phone. She places it beside her on the bench then rubs the heels of her hands up and down her upper legs.

"That doesn't look like calling Beca," Aubrey mouths back. She turns to face Mills and Campbell again.

"I delivered Tyler," Campbell tells Mills and stares at the closed door. "It's always a shame to see them go before I do. Especially like this."

"Let's just get the body down and confirm that his death was indeed a suicide," Mills replies and pushes the door open to the dark room. He pulls a flashlight out of his belt. "Power lines were cut." he explains and makes an upward motion toward the ceiling light with his flashlight as he turns it in.

Campbell leans in and holds the door open for Mills with one hand. "Do we have reason to believe it wasn't a suicide?" he inquires.

Aubrey swallows and looks at Mills as she waits for his answer. Maybe she should get herself and Chloe away from this island...

"No," Mills answers abruptly and shakes his head. "I'm just...doin' my job." He points his flashlight forward and steps inside the shop.

Campbell continues to hold the door open and looks at Aubrey.

It was just yesterday, Aubrey was following Mills into the burglarized Maritime Museum. She questioned good judgment then and she questions it again. She doesn't even know if she's supposed to go inside. She definitely doesn't  _want_  to. Maybe Mills plans on telling Nikki she's there to take her home. Or maybe he expects her to go in and tell her herself. It's not as though she has to look at the body if she walks inside. She has self-control; she can keep her eyes on the floor. She side-glances at Campbell then looks into the darkness.

"Are you going inside, Dear?" Campbell asks calmly.

Aubrey inhales and nods her head. She wipes her palms against the sides of her shirt - which is useless because it's already damp with ocean water. It'll be easier if she just grabs Nikki and the three of them get out of there. She looks at Chloe and momentarily worries over leaving her outside alone. "Chloe, I'll be right back," she calls to her. "Don't move." Though she doubts Chloe is going anywhere.

Chloe presses her thumb against her palm then lifts her hand and picks at her lower lip. She nods her head and pulls one of her feet back up onto the bench.

Aubrey stares at her for a moment then turns and slip inside the shop. She keeps one hand on the wall and tries to keep her eyes on her feet as she walks. She scratches the skin next to her thumbnail with her pointer finger and concentrates on not looking up until she's managed to locate Nikki's converse with the dim light of the flashlights. She lifts her gaze a fraction of an inch and then slightly more until Nikki is in full view. The bartender is hunched against the wall, shoulders shaking and hands over her face. Aubrey looks back toward the door, because Chloe is more equipped to handle this sort of situation than she is. That is, if there wasn't a dead guy hanging from the ceiling, she'd be more equipped.

"Should we do a sweep for some kind of evidence?" an unfamiliar voice asks.

"Let's just get him down, Deputy," Mills answers.

"You should call in the SPD," Aubrey points out, unable to hold her tongue. She looks down at her feet but holds her confident tone. "You should always call in the professionals and never tamper with potential evidence." She lowers hand hand from the wall, suddenly aware that  _she_  is tampering with evidence just by being there, and turns to face the sheriff - doing her best to ignore what she can see of Tyler's leg out of the corner of her eye.

"You want me to radio in Seattle?" the deputy asks. He pulls his radio out of one of his pockets and looks it over as though it's a contraption he's never even seen before.

"No one is radioing in anyone," Mills answers. "We're getting the body down."

"That's not a good idea," Aubrey insists. She crosses her arms, tucking her hands against her sides. "Do you know how much trouble you could get in for this? You could get years in prison for tainting evidence and interfering with a potential investigation." Of course he has to know that. He's the sheriff. She takes a half of a step toward the door. She considers that maybe she should be the one to call the SPD.

The deputy and doctor both stare at her as Mills pulls a pocket knife out of his pocket and turns to face the body.

"Do we have reason to believe this isn't a suicide, Sheriff?" Campbell asks again and glances to the side in his direction.

"No, we don't," Mills answers simply. He canes his thick neck to look at his companions against. "You two are gonna hafta help me get him down."

"I want a postmortem," Nikki announces suddenly.

Aubrey turns to face her, having forgotten she was even there. The other three look at her as well.

Nikki lifts her head and wipes the mascara smears under her eyes with the back of her hand. "I want an autopsy done," she says. She straightens up and crosses her arms. "I want to make sure how he died." She sniffles and nods.

Mills exhales a weary sigh. "He died from hanging," he replies solemnly.

"He wouldn't do that," Nikki argues and leans back against the wall.

"Now, Nikki..." Mills tries to reason.

"No." Nikki uncrosses her arms and presses her hands flat against the wall by her sides. "He was in my care and I need to make sure that's how he died." She pushes herself away from the wall then wipes at her cheeks with her palms. "I demand an autopsy."

"Fine," Mills concedes with a single nod. He walks behind the counter and grabs a chair then drags it across the floor toward the body.

Aubrey catches a glimpse of Tyler's feet by mistake. She lifts her gaze as high as his knees - just hanging there, motionless in the air. It's less of an accident as she watches Mills climb up onto the chair and steady himself with his pocket knife pressed firmly against the fraying rope. Maybe it's curiosity. Or maybe she would just feel like a coward if she didn't look. She turns her head and gets a clear view of the body, illuminated by the light of the flashlights as the deputy and the doctor set them down on a table. She doesn't feel any different than when she wasn't looking - doesn't know what she expected to feel. She stares silently at his lifeless eyes, lips parted and hands limply by her sides. His body is exactly like those she has seen in science museums or even on television. She briefly wonders if something is wrong with her - if death and staring at a body should somehow seem more _real_.

The deputy and Campbell grab the body by the legs and hoist it up as Mills begins sawing his knife against the rope. Nikki sobs, reminding Aubrey of why she's there to begin with.

Aubrey inhales and draws herself to full height as she turns to face Nikki with as much composure as she can manage - which probably comes off as too much given how little she is beginning to feel she has on this island. "We have to go," she states matter-of-factly. To her surprise, Nikki complies. Or almost complies. Nikki takes a step toward the door then lifts her head and freezes. Aubrey turns around.

Chloe stands frozen tensely in the doorway, her hand clamped over her mouth and her eyes wide and glued to the body. Before Aubrey can even process her presence, Chloe shields her eyes with her hands and spins around on her heel then walks straight back out of the shop.

xxxxx

"What the hell are you doing, Chloe?!" Aubrey marches out of the shop in a cool and collected  _frenzy_. "I told you to stay outside."

Chloe comes to a halt beside the bench she wasn't supposed to leave - and Aubrey nearly crashes into her. She lowers her hands away from her face and looks at Aubrey out of the corner of her eye. "Is he dead?" she musters out, her voice quivering and cracking mid-sentence. She grabs the edge of the table and draws in a harsh breath. "Oh my god." She exhales and faces the ground, doing little to hide the terror in her eyes. She lifts her hand and hovers it in front of her mouth as she turns in Aubrey's direction. "Oh my god."

"I told you to stay out here, Chloe," Aubrey hisses.

Chloe lifts her head, tears already welling up in her eyes. She swallows. "I want to go back to the beach with Beca," she says thickly. She sniffles and grabs Aubrey's elbow, trying to gently tug her back in the direction they came from. "Let's go back to the beach."

Aubrey stumbles then digs her heels into the ground. She has too much on her plate already to focus around the fact that Chloe suddenly wants to be with  _Beca_. She digs her phone out of her pocket and scrolls through her contact list for Beca's name. She hits 'call' and presses her phone to her ear. She places her free hand on Chloe's shoulder and glances back toward the shop.

Chloe sniffs and rubs at her face with the palm of her hand.

"Answer your phone, Beca," Aubrey snaps as the phone continues to ring. She rolls her eyes.

Chloe moves her hand away from her face. "Why are you calling Beca?" She reaches for the phone. "Aubrey, come on, let's go back to the beach."

"Chloe, stop." Aubrey moves the phone away from her hand and can just barely hear whatever Beca is saying as it reaches her voicemail. She holds the phone over her head, lifting it even higher as Chloe stands on her tiptoes. Sometimes, she thanks God she's the taller one. Other times, she just wishes Chloe would let things go the moment she tells her to.

Chloe stumbles while trying to grab her phone. Beca's voicemail beeps. "We don't have to get wrapped up in this, Aubrey," she insists and shakes her head.

"You're acting like a five-year-old, Chloe," Aubrey snaps and tries to block her hand. She grabs Chloe by the wrist and pushes her a few inches back. "Chloe, stop!" She glances up at her phone.  _Shit_. "Learn to answer your phone, Beca," she growls at the receiver then ends the call. She stuffs her phone back into her pocket.

Chloe slowly twists her arm and eases her wrist out of Aubrey's grasp. She steps backward and folds her arms across her chest then turns her back to Aubrey and walks a few feet away. It doesn't take rocket science for Aubrey to realize immediately that she screwed up.

Aubrey exhales a slow breath and shoots a look at the ice cream parlor. Why can't the deputy drive Nikki back to her house? She pauses. Isn't she supposed to be Nikki's friend now? That comes with a level of responsibility. She can still see Chloe out of the corner of her eye. But she's Chloe's best friend. That makes Chloe her priority. She drops her arms down by her side and walks in a large half circle until she standing in front of Chloe. Her responsibility to Nikki still tugs at the corner of her mind and she suddenly feels useless to both of them.

"I want to go back to the beach," Chloe mutters. She grips the sides of her shirt, balling the fabric in her fists. "I want to go back  _right now_." Her voice shakes. She stares off to the side, presses her lips together and swallows. She lifts a hand and wipes at her eyes, which are beginning to redden, then refolds her arms and exhales slowly through her mouth.

"Chloe..." Aubrey starts slowly.

"What are we even doing here, Aubrey?" Chloe cuts her off in a strained voice and looks her straight in the eye. "You're not a cop." She sniffles and shakes her head. "You're not even a lawyer yet."

"Aca-scuse me?" Aubrey folds her arms.

Chloe lowers her voice. "Aubrey, someone is dead," she reasons. "Someone is really dead." She swallows again and shakes her head. "And I think I'm a little drunk." She unfolds her arms and steps closer to Aubrey. "So let's just go back to the beach and we can get more drunk and you can tell me how to got mixed up in all this somewhere not here." She places her hands on Aubrey's chest. "Okay?"

It's tempting and Chloe seems so close to crying that Aubrey wouldn't be able to say no if Nikki didn't choose that very moment to step outside. Her gaze darts back and forth between the two, finally settling back on Chloe. She places her hands on her shoulders. Chloe looks up at her with a hopeful gaze. Aubrey draws in a breath. "Chloe, I have to drive Nikki home," she rushes to say - almost as if she says it quickly enough, it won't be a big deal that they have to argue over.

Chloe rubs the fabric of Aubrey's shirt between her fingers and shakes her head. "Who's Nikki?"

Aubrey looks over at Nikki. The bartender walks across the parking lot and tosses her purse on top the hood of a car. She begins digging through the bag.

Chloe follows Aubrey's gaze, not taking her hands off of her shirt. She stares at Nikki for a moment then looks up at Aubrey with questioning eyes.

Aubrey catches herself looking back and forth between them again, trying to ward off a sudden rush of guilt - a feeling like she's betraying Chloe. She tells herself she's being ridiculous because she and Chloe aren't a thing, and neither are she and Nikki. She rests her hands on Chloe shoulders and tries to  _gently_  ease her away. "She's the ice cream kid's sister," she musters out, keeping her voice low. "And the sheriff wants me to drive her home."

"But why would he ask  _you_?" Chloe responds and takes a step back from her. "You don't have to please everyone who tells you to do something, Aubrey."

It's a perfectly reasonable question. But it's the comment that Chloe tacks onto the end that makes her retaliate. "You're the one who told me to make friends, Chloe," she reminds her. Because that's why she's doing this. Nikki is her friend. It has nothing to do with the sheriff. She shakes her head and makes her way toward Nikki.

Chloe spins around to face her, nearly tripping over her own feet as she does so. She stamps her foot on the ground. "Aubrey!" she calls after her.

xxxxx

Aubrey stops beside the hood of the car. "How far do you live from here?" she asks Nikki, mostly because she wants to know how far she is going to have to walk back to the inn. She is already well aware that she will be making the trip alone and in the dark.

Nikki looks up from her bag and glances over at Aubrey. "Less than a mile," she answers with a shake of her head. "I just have to find my keys." She keeps digging through her purse. "They're in here somewhere."

Aubrey nods and stands there with her arms at her sides - waiting.

"This is not okay, Aubrey," Chloe mouths silently as she approaches them. Aubrey is about to retaliate again, but Chloe stops beside Nikki - placing one hand on the car and the other on Nikki's back. "Do you need help?" she inquires, taking on a much softer tone. She doesn't pause. "I'm Chloe, by the way."

Nikki sniffs and lifts her head. "Nikki," she replies. She touches her forehead like she's thinking. "I, uh, I run The Cannery."

The corners of Chloe's lips twist into a slight, puzzled smile and she shakes her head. "I don't know what that is." She slides Nikki's bag across the hood of the car and begins to go through it.

Nikki straightens up. "It's the only bar on the island," she explains.

Aubrey feels a slight twinge her in chest and clenches her jaw as she watches them. She notices Chloe pull Nikki's keys from the bag and steps forward then snatches them out of her hand. "Okay, let's go," she rushes them.

Chloe scoffs and turns to face her.

Aubrey unlocks the car with the keyring as she walks around to the driver's side. For the first time ever, she regrets being sober enough to drive. She pulls open the door and rests her hand on the top of it. "We have to make a stop first," she announces, fully intent on taking Chloe back to the beach, then slides into the car and closes the door.

Nikki grabs her bag off the hood of the car. She opens the passenger side door then climbs in.

Chloe throws open the back door - apparently harder than she means to because she quickly tries to grab it and stop it from swinging. She pokes her head inside first before climbing in. She pulls the door shut then buckles her seatbelt before flopping back against the seat and folding her arms. "I'm not going back to the beach."

Aubrey pulls her seatbelt on then turns around to face her, resting a hand on the back of the passenger's seat. "Aca-scuse me? Chloe, you're the one who said you wanted to go back to the beach."

"Yeah, with you!" Chloe raises her voice an octave. "Not now that you're just going to drop me off there alone."

Aubrey rolls her eyes. "You're being ridiculous," she informs her. "Beca and the rest of the Bellas are all at the beach."

Chloe unfolds her arms. "Beca doesn't even want to see my face right now, Aubrey!" she all but explodes.

"Well maybe if you'd stop coming onto her, you wouldn't have that problem," the words slip out before Aubrey can stop them.

Chloe sniffles loudly and presses a hand to her forehead. She turns to face the door and rests the back of her hand against the window - staring outside. "You're right," she forces out in a strangled voice. She shakes her head.

Aubrey digs her nails into the back of the seat. There are becoming too many instances in which she wishes she could take back her words. "Chloe..."

Chloe sniffs again. "No, you're right," she cuts her off. She squeezes her eyes shut then rubs her face. "Aubrey Posen, always right."

Aubrey's jaw twitches. That isn't supposed to be how Chloe sees her; no, that ended back in college. "Chloe, I'm sorry," she admits quickly.

Chloe struggles to keep her features from crumbling. She slides her hand down over her eyes.

Aubrey recoils back to the front seat. She turns around and jams the key into the ignition then starts the car. She has to remain calm if she's going to drive. She breathes deeply and places her hand on the gear shift.

Nikki faces sideways, glancing back and forth between the two of them. "You two have some seriously unresolved sexual tension with this Beca person," she informs them - too bluntly.

Chloe muffles a sob.

Aubrey turns to face Nikki and just stares at her for a moment. Nikki has no idea. She faces forward and roughly pushes the gear shift into the right gear then backs out of the parking lot.

 


	30. Thirty

**Arrhythmia**

* * *

  
_I don't want to be a soldier_   
_Who the captain of some sinking ship would stow,_   
_Far below._   
_So, if you love me, why'd you let me go?_   
_\- Coldplay_   


* * *

"It's the next turn," Nikki announces as they pass the path leading toward the cliffs. She turns sideways in her seat and places her hand against the glove compartment as Aubrey slows down the car and stares at the woods. "I didn't mean for the sheriff to ask you to do this. He's not going to know if I drive myself home from here."

Aubrey presses harder on the brake and draws the car to a complete stop then shifts it into park. She turns on the blinkers. It wouldn't be right, getting out of the car and leaving Nikki to drive herself the rest of the way to her home. The sheriff had asked her to drive her all the way. But the street lights don't go past the main road and Aubrey just imagines being haunted by music in the dark, alone with Chloe. She twists her hands around the car's steering wheel. She's sure her silence indicates her reluctance to finish the trip; she just can't find the right words to use to confirm it.

"Hey." Nikki reaches forward and rests her hand on Aubrey's wrist. "It's okay." She lowers her voice. "Look, I spend all of my time outside the bar alone. This, driving myself the rest of the way home after what happened, this is nothing for me."

For a moment, Aubrey thinks that's meant to be a guilt trip - an excuse to convince Aubrey to drive her the rest of the way home. She turns around in her seat, fully ready to be meant with raised eyebrows and expectant stare. She's unprepared for Nikki's solemn almost-smile and the glint of sincerity in her eyes. They lock gazes and Aubrey's breath catches as she tries to come up with something to say - because now she almost certainly can't allow Nikki to drive herself home alone. But then she doesn't understand why she can't, because, like Nikki said, she's used to being alone. She lowers her hands from the steering wheel, looking down as Nikki's hand follows hers and rests on her leg with their fingers touching.

Nikki's fingers curl and her palm presses against the side of Aubrey's leg as she glances toward the back seat. "You should get your friend back to The Candlewick." She looks at Aubrey again and takes her hand off her leg.

It's easy to forget Chloe is around when she's not making any noise - because Chloe is rarely ever not making any noise. Aubrey spins to face the back seat. Chloe's eyes are closed and her face is smashed against the window. Aubrey doesn't get how she can sleep after she slept all day. "Chloe," she says her name in a futile attempt to wake her up. She reaches back and shakes her knee. "Chloe!"

Chloe makes a quiet sniffling noise.

Nikki looks at Aubrey.

Aubrey turns around to face the dash. She locates the buttons for the car's windows next to the steering wheel and presses her thumb against the button for Chloe's window then turns around again. The window slides down a few inches, gliding against Chloe's face. Chloe's eyes fly open and she bolts away from the window, not getting very far with her seatbelt on. She falls back toward the window and uses the door to catch herself. Aubrey instinctively reaches back and grabs her by the arm to prevent her from falling over too far and hitting her head off the half-opened window.

Nikki arches a half-entertained brow at Chloe.

Chloe straightens up and trails her hand up the door until it gets to the window. She curls her fingers over the edge then turns to look at Aubrey's hand. She hunches her shoulders then rolls them back.

Aubrey drops her hand and sits up straight. "We're walking back to the inn," she states and unbuckles her seatbelt.

Chloe unbuckles her seatbelt and looks out the window. She pauses and looks out the window on the other side of the car then turns to look out the back.

"Nikki is driving the rest of the way," Aubrey explains. She turns around and rests her hand on the door handle.

"What?" Chloe faces forward again and slides down against the seat. She leans forward, supporting herself with one hand on the center console. "You can't just make her walk, Aubrey."

Aubrey taps her nails against the handle. Hadn't it just been Chloe who was telling her that they shouldn't drive Nikki home at all? She turns her head, not expecting Chloe's face to be only centimeters away from her own. "I don't know what you want, Chloe." She doesn't bother to lower her voice. Nikki would only hear her anyway. She can feel her pride withering as she and Chloe fight in front of someone. Her father always said that airing one's dirty laundry is not only inappropriate, but also completely unnecessary.

"What I want?" Chloe replies. "Aubrey, I just want you to drive her the rest of the way home."

"You know, I can drive myself," Nikki tries to cut in. She glances back and forth between them. "It's really no big deal."

Chloe turns to face Nikki. "It is a big deal," she replies, her voice laced with concern. She rests a hand on Nikki's arm. "Just let Aubrey drive you the rest of the way."

"Chloe, can I see you outside?" Aubrey curls her fingers around the handle and shoves the car door open. She stands up and closes the door behind her then turns to face the back door and waits for Chloe.

Chloe opens her car door and climbs out of the car. She shuts the door behind her then rests a hand near the car's roof and raises her eyebrows at Aubrey. She draws in a breath and glances off to the side. "Can we just hurry this up?" she all but sputters out. "I'm tired." She lowers her voice. "I don't want to be here." She swallows thickly and looks at the ground then meets Aubrey's eyes again.

Aubrey grits her teeth at Chloe's claim to be tired. She's tired, yet she wants to drive Nikki even further then walk all the way back to the inn. Aubrey motions toward the unlit road. "Do you really want to walk back in the dark, Chloe?"

Chloe lowers her hand from the car roof and slides her palms down her sides as she inhales a deep breath and looks at the aforementioned street. Her brows furrow and she presses her lips together in an expression that is almost definitely a 'no'. Her hands rest on her hips and she slips her thumbs through her belt loops as she turns to face Aubrey again. "'It's not about me, Aubrey." She shakes her head and moves her hand from her hip to pull on the handle of the car door without opening the door. "It's not about you either."

Aubrey's arms hang limply by her sides.

Chloe diverts her gaze back downward. She opens the door then climbs back into the car and shuts it again behind her without another word.

For a moment, Aubrey just stands there, staring at the place where Chloe had previously been standing. She clenches her jaw. If Chloe wants to risk their safety and walk in the dark on some island they know nothing about so they can drive someone home who  _lives there_ , fine. The corners of her lips twitch. She groans and pulls the driver's side door back open and climbs back into the car. Chloe's and Nikki's eyes are on her - boring into her. She does her best to ignore them both as she turns off the car's blinkers and shifts back into drive then pulls onto Nikki's road.

xxxxx

The road is a narrow, one-way strip of gravel, choked on either side by trees with broken branches that scrape the sides of the car as Aubrey drives by. Haphazardly placed, rusting signs with faded letters that say words such as 'No Trespassing', 'Private Property', and 'No Hunting' hang on the tree trunks - some having fallen sideways and others half-covered by overgrown foliage. Aubrey grimaces as she hits a pothole then drives over a few pebbles that could better be described as rocks and boulders. She's  _almost_  glad she doesn't have to drive back over this. A leaf, that could have very well been a small mammal, scuttles across the road in the wind, and Aubrey slams on the breaks.

Chloe, who was already leaning forward to begin with for some reason, crashes into the back of Aubrey's seat. She grabs the shoulder of the seat to steady herself and turns to face Nikki. "Aubrey is usually a much better driver than this." She shoots Aubrey a look.

"I'm not being a bad driver, Chloe." The car gives a jolt as Aubrey presses down on the gas again. "This road is half the size that it should be."

Chloe cringes and grips the back of Aubrey's seat. "Can we roll down the windows?" She leans further over the shoulder of the seat. "Your constant stopping and starting is making me motion sick, Aubrey."

It's impossible to tell whether or not Chloe is being serious so Aubrey rolls down both of the back windows - unable to understand why Chloe couldn't just sit back and roll them down herself.

Nikki spins around in her seat and looks out the back window. "Careful." She turns around and settles back against her seat again.

Aubrey immediately looks out the rearview mirror in an attempt to determine why Nikki is telling her she needs to be more careful. She can't see anything behind her except for trees and rocks.

Nikki glances back again. "You almost missed a pothole," she deadpans then looks at Aubrey with an almost-smile.

Their mocking is just a sign of their immaturity and Aubrey resolves to be the bigger person and ignore it. She lifts her chin, draws in a breath as she sits back against her seat, and steers the car toward the lone driveway at the end of the road.

Chloe presses the lower half of her face against the shoulder of Aubrey's seat - gripping the headrest with one hand and resting her other hand on the center console. She twirls Aubrey's hair around her pinky finger, accidentally pulling on it a little too hard. Aubrey refrains from reacting - just turns her head and pulls into the four-car driveway, illuminated by Nikki's porch light.

Nikki unbuckles her seatbelt before the car comes to a complete stop. She rests one hand on the door handle and the other on the side of her seat as she turns to face Aubrey. She swallows thickly and her features suddenly become more sullen - her lips pressing together and her eyelids drooping. "Thank you for driving me home." She waits for Aubrey to turn off the car then leans over and wraps her in a loose hug that causes Chloe to pull her hand away from Aubrey's hair and finally lean back.

Hugging should be natural, considering how many years Aubrey has dealt with Chloe, but being stuck in her seat makes anything she could do with her arms feel awkward. Nikki's hugs aren't like Chloe's - which are usually so tight that Aubrey can barely move her arms anyway because Chloe will wrap her arms around those too. She freezes - the scent of cigarette smoke and coconut perfume lingering on Nikki's clothes making her temporarily lightheaded (not entirely in a bad way). Her hand falls away from the car keys, still stuck in the ignition, and Nikki casually pulls away then opens her car door.

"Do you want to come in for a second and I'll find you a flashlight?" Nikki asks, stepping out of the car with one foot. She looks back and forth between Aubrey and Chloe.

Aubrey pulls the keys from the ignition then looks back at Chloe - who is looking out the window. She doesn't necessarily want to waste time following Nikki inside, but they could make use of a flashlight. "Yes." She hands Nikki the keys then opens the car door. She climbs out of the car and shuts the door then turns to face Chloe through the window.

Chloe looks down. She opens her own door and steps out of the car - shutting it behind her with her hip. The breeze ruffles her damp hair and she runs her fingers through it before rubbing her hands up and down her arms and stepping toward Aubrey. She lowers her arms and wraps them around Aubrey's mid-section, drawing her into a hug that contains triple the strength of Nikki's. She rests her face against Aubrey's shoulder and grips her shirt with one hand.

Aubrey glances down at her and blows a few strands of her hair away from her mouth. She doesn't have time to decipher Chloe right now. She eases out of Chloe's grasp, prying her fingers from the fabric of her shirt, and steps closer toward Nikki's house - or, well, the cement pillars that hold half of it up. She looks up at the base of the house, a thick slab of cement that juts out into the open as the ground beneath it slopes down into a steep hill covered in untrimmed bushes. The spotlight that hangs from the wooden fence encompassing the porch is blinding as Aubrey tries to look further up. She looks at the set of stone stairs leading up the hill a few feet away then at Chloe. Chloe folds her arms and looks nonplussed.

Aubrey takes a step forward to follow Nikki up the steps then pauses when Chloe remains rooted to her spot. "You can throw your tantrum back at the inn, Chloe," she whispers, "Let's go." She can't let her outside alone again - not in the middle of the woods. She shakes her head and starts climbing the thin, uneven steps.

Chloe huffs and drops her arms down by her sides. She looks around outside then follows Aubrey up the stairs, staying several steps behind.

Aubrey stares at Nikki's back as they climb the last few steps then glances back at Chloe to make sure she's keeping up. Chloe focuses on where she's placing her feet and pays no attention to Aubrey. Aubrey steps onto the final stair then onto the pavement above it and turns her head to look at the house, the spotlight no longer shining in her eyes. The wrap around deck with its strategically placed outdoor furniture and perfectly cared for decorative plants make the place look like some extravagant summer home than somewhere Nikki lives all year round. If not for its atrocious location, it would be the perfect vacation home. She instinctively glances at Chloe to try to gouge some sort of reaction from her.

Chloe steps around her without even giving the place a glance. She crosses her arms tighter across her chest and turns her head to look back down over the side of the hill, her jaw clenched and her lips pressed tightly together. She glances at Aubrey out of the corner of her eye and raises her eyebrows.

If Aubrey had a vacation home of sorts like Nikki's house, it's not as though Chloe would have to join her there anyway. She could invite someone else. Like Fat Amy. Or Bryan from the firm. Aubrey turns on her heel and follows Nikki across the pavement toward the porch then around to the door. She could even invite Nikki. Or go alone and have some peace. She waits for Nikki to dig out her house key, doing her best not to keep glancing at Chloe. If they're going to argue, she isn't going to give Chloe the satisfaction of being able to assume that she's bothered. She can't even pinpoint why they're arguing anymore (aside from because Chloe is just infuriating).

Nikki turns the key in the lock then pushes the door open and flips on a lightswitch right inside the doorway. She tosses her keys and bag on a table then steps out of the way for Aubrey and Chloe, holding the door open with an outstretched arm. "I think I have a flashlight in the kitchen," she says and looks at Aubrey. "I'll get it for you."

"Thank you," Chloe answers before Aubrey can say anything. Aubrey glances back at her as she steps inside and walks past Nikki into the hallway.

Nikki shuts the door behind them. She takes a few steps down the hall toward where Aubrey presumes is the kitchen then halts and spins back around to face them. "Do you want a drink?"

Aubrey opens her mouth to speak, but Chloe cuts her off with a "Yeah" and a nod of her head. She's about to deny the offer (for both of them) when her phone goes off in her pocket. She clenches her jaw and digs her fingernails into her palms, already expecting it to be none other than Beca. Her phone continues to vibrate against her thigh and she glances around for somewhere private to answer it before it can go to voicemail. "May I use your bathroom?"

"It's right down the hall." Nikki points to the right. "Second door."

Aubrey's hand hovers instinctively over her pocket. "Aca-scuse me." She grips the top of her phone with her thumb and pointer finger as she turns and walks as casually as she can toward the bathroom - ignoring the feeling of Chloe's eyes boring into her back.

The light switch is a round dimmer on the wall that Aubrey fumbles with as she shuts the door with her foot and tries to pull out her phone. It stops vibrating just as she's about to answer it.  _Jesus Christ._  She draws in a deep breath, not certain why she's so worked up. It might have something to do with the dead body in the ice cream parlor. Or the deeply rooted feeling that she needs to get Chloe back to the inn. She opens her contacts on her phone to search for Beca's name. Her phone vibrates again.

' _Beca'_

Aubrey opens the call and presses her phone to her ear.

"You've reached Aubrey Posen," Beca mocks her voicemail in a sickeningly formal voice that grates on Aubrey's last nerve. "I'm currently not available, but…"

"Cut the crap, Beca," Aubrey snaps. "Learn to answer your phone," she repeats her earlier message on Beca's voicemail. It hits her a little too late that  _she_  didn't answer her phone when Beca called.

"Really?" Beca deadpans.

Aubrey's nostrils flare and she narrows her eyes.

The crashing of ocean waves and crackling of the bonfire becomes distanced and replaced with the sound of Beca's breathing. "Dude, what's up?" she takes on a more casual tone.

Aubrey has to search for words. Her first call had been about Chloe, which is now an irrelevant issue.

"Wait, is this like your one phone call?" Beca asks with undeniable amusement. "Are you asking me to bail you out of jail?"

"Aca-scu-"  _Oh, right, the sheriff._  "I'm not in jail, Beca," Aubrey snaps. She rolls her eyes at the entertained breath on the other end of the line. "I left my stuff at the bonfire."

Beca pauses. "So?"

Can Beca possibly be any more infuriating? Aubrey grips the corner of the sink, the edge of it digging into her palm. "So, I need you to take it back to my room," she explains. It's like giving directions to a toddler. Sophia would probably be more compliable.

"Seriously?" Beca asks. "Dude, do it yourself."

Aubrey straightens her posture and bites back several choice words. "I  _can't_ ," she growls tersely. "And I am not a...a  _dude_ ," she sputters.

Beca snorts.

"This isn't funny, Beca." Aubrey pushes herself away from the sink and paces the tiled floor.

"Okay, okay," Beca replies. "Jeez. I'll get your shit for you."

Aubrey stops pacing and stares at the crack between the curtain and the window, momentarily telling herself she's distracted by the just barely visible spotlight outside as she debates her earlier conversation with Beca - about telling her about further experiences on the island. She isn't even certain why she's tempted. The death of Tyler doesn't affect Beca nor is it really any of her business. But it eats away at Aubrey's thoughts. She draws in a slow breath, temporarily forgetting she's still on the phone.

"Yeah, I'm gonna go now," Beca states.

"There was an accident," Aubrey blurts out. She mentally scolds herself directly after. It's not like suicide can even be considered an 'accident'. She immediately begins thinking of ways to take back her words.

"What?" Beca asks, not missing a beat. "Is Chloe okay?"

Aubrey blinks, having not expected that reaction. "Chloe is fine, Beca," she replies almost defensively. "I have to go." She's been in the bathroom for way too long. "Don't forget my stuff."

"Aubrey, wai-"

Aubrey hangs up the phone before Beca can finish.

 


	31. Thirty-One

**Arrhythmia**

* * *

  
_I don't want to be a soldier_   
_Who the captain of some sinking ship would stow,_   
_Far below._   
_So, if you love me, why'd you let me go?_   
_\- Coldplay_   


* * *

Chloe lowers a shot glass down on the kitchen table and scrunches her face at whatever she just poured down her throat as Aubrey enters the kitchen. She nudges the glass back toward an unmarked bottle with two of her fingers and leans back against the chair she's sitting on. "That's strong," she rasps and continues making an unpleasant face.

"Chloe!" Aubrey's long strides turn into a march as she closes the distance between herself and the kitchen table. "What are you doing?" She rests her hands flat on the table and turns to face Nikki, who is leaning against her ebony counter, a glass of something amber colored in hand. "She has to walk back to the inn, Nikki."

Nikki sniffles and places her glass on the countertop. "She wanted to try the local whiskey," she explains. "She'll be okay to walk back."

Aubrey leans forward against her palms, pressing down on the table. "Aca-scuse me?" Nikki is out of line, assuming that she knows Chloe will be fine to walk all the way back. "You don't know her." Whether or not Chloe will be fine walking back to the inn, Aubrey wants to get that point across the Nikki, and to Beca. They don't know Chloe.

"Aubrey," Chloe finally speaks up, her voice raw in a way that Aubrey can't tell if it's from the alcohol or from crying. She reaches forward and rests a hand on Aubrey's wrist. "It was just one sh-"

Aubrey tugs her arm away and stands up straight. She checks to make sure her phone is tucked securely in her pocket then glances around, locating the flashlight Nikki is lending to them on the end of the counter. She walks over to it and picks it up then flicks it on and off to make sure the batteries work. "Let's go, Chloe," she demands.

Chloe glances down at the table then slowly pushes herself to her feet. She wobbles, grips the back of the chair, then straightens her spine and steps forward. She tentatively meets Aubrey's gaze. "Aubrey, I'm fine," she assures her in a soft tone.

Aubrey looks at the flashlight again then at Nikki. "I'll get this back to you." She nods at her without actually looking at her face then walks back toward the hall leading to the front entrance. She turns back after a few steps to face Chloe - who is still standing in the same spot. "I said let's go, Chloe," she repeats.

Chloe presses her lips together and glances back at Nikki. She swallows and offers a closed-lipped smile then trails after Aubrey - far too slowly for Aubrey's liking. "Bree…" she starts once they get closer to the door.

"Not now." Aubrey opens the door and steps outside. The sudden breeze sends a chill through her and causes strands of her cold, damp hair to stick to her face. Once they're alone, she frowns and turns to face Chloe. "I don't understand what's going through your head, Chloe." She thrusts her hand out to the side then folds her arms tightly across her chest in a useless attempt to shield herself from another gust of wind.

Chloe presses her lips together tightly for a moment then parts them and exhales a slow breath through her mouth. She looks off to the side, sniffles and rubs her face, then slowly walks past Aubrey - giving her arm a light squeeze on the way. "Nothing," it's a barely audible murmur that Aubrey just manages to catch.

Aubrey spins to face her. "Chloe!" How many times has she said her name now, trying to get and  _hold_  her attention?

The stairs are, unfortunately, the only visible way down to the ground level and Chloe begins stepping down them one by one. After a few steps, she turns sideways and grips the stairs above her to help with her balance. "I just want to go back to the beach."

The  _beach_? Aubrey follows her. "We're going back to the inn." She turns the flashlight on and points it at the ground as she climbs down the stairs - making sure there is light for Chloe too. She bites at her thumbnail for a second then wraps her arm around her torso. "I can't believe you were doing shots in there."

"I'm sorry." Chloe's words are barely audible. She reaches the last step then brushes her hands off on her sweatshirt. She doesn't offer the explanation or excuses that Aubrey thought, maybe even hoped, that she would. There is no insight to what she's thinking.

"Sorry doesn't cut it." Aubrey stops on the last step and waits for Chloe to move.

Chloe's face contorts and Aubrey realizes that she's going to start crying again. She screws her eyes shut for a second then opens them again and sniffles loudly before turning to face Aubrey. She opens her mouth to speak then closes it again and licks her lips before actually saying anything. "Do you like her?" She shuffles from one foot to the other, actively avoiding Aubrey's gaze.

Aubrey blinks and tries to understand her question. "Like who?" she asks, sounding as clueless as she feels. "Beca?" She doesn't like Beca one bit. And right now she likes her even less than usual. But the expression on Chloe's face tells her that she guessed the wrong person. She still doesn't understand Chloe's question.

The tears welling up in Chloe's eyes threaten to start leaking down her face again. She presses a hand to her forehead and takes two miniature steps toward Aubrey - almost like she's on autopilot, like gravitating toward her is instinctual.

"Chloe, talk to me." Aubrey can't just stand there and watch her cry. She's seen Chloe's tears far too many times today. She glances behind her and lowers herself onto one of the steps then leans forward and grabs Chloe by the wrist, drawing her in closer. Chloe doesn't need much convincing. Her features crumble and she lowers herself onto Aubrey's lap, pressing her face into the crook of Aubrey's neck and entangling her fingers too tightly in the fabric of her shirt.

Another breeze rushes past, rustling the leaves and causing Chloe to shiver. Aubrey lowers the flashlight onto the step beside her and rubs Chloe's arms in an effort to warm her up. It doesn't seem to have any effect. She wraps her arms around Chloe's small frame and, if possible, Chloe's fingers tighten on her shirt. Her shoulders continue to vibrate. It takes a moment, but Aubrey eventually realizes that it's because she's sobbing. Hard. "What's  _wrong_?" Aubrey's voice is strained now. It's not like Chloe to keep things from her. Not like this.

Chloe mumbles something. Her lips tickle Aubrey's neck as she tries to speak. It's impossible to make out a word of what she's saying.

Aubrey keeps her arms around Chloe's back. She lifts one hand, brushing Chloe's hair away from her face, and rests it on the side of Chloe's head. "What?" She tries to see Chloe's face enough that she can watch her lips move and make out what she's trying to say.

"Au-brey." Chloe's voice is high-pitched and shakes as violently as her body. "I sc- I sc- I…"

"Breathe," Aubrey reminds her calmly. She wishes Chloe wasn't so unpredictable when she drinks. Sometimes she's so bubbly and energetic that it's like she downed fifty Redbulls. Other times, she's like this. "Breathe."

"I screwed up." Chloe presses herself into Aubrey, knocking Aubrey back against the step behind her. "Oh my god," she mumbles. She tries to curl further onto Aubrey's lap, but the step that Aubrey's sitting on makes the position uncomfortable for both of them.

Aubrey grabs her by the shoulders and eases her back so that she can look at her. She sits up straighter so that the step behind her is no longer digging against her spine. Her hands find Chloe's cheeks and the space between her thumbs and pointer fingers catch the warm tears. "Screwed up what, Chloe?" She tries to catch Chloe's gaze, but Chloe just screws her eyes shut.

"Oh my god." The words are like some sort of revelation that Chloe can see but Aubrey can't. She tries to lower her head back down to Aubrey's shoulder. "Oh my god."

They have to get back to the inn, but Aubrey realizes that Chloe has no intention of moving. She sighs and wraps her arms back around her, looking up at the trees. Chloe's head rests against Aubrey's shoulder again and she sandwiches her hands between their chests, rubbing the fabric of Aubrey's shirt between her fingers. Her shoulders continue to quiver with silent sobs, and all Aubrey can do is rub her back and wait for her to tire herself out.

xxxxx

Their chests rise and fall at the same rate for what simultaneously feels like forever and not long enough. Aubrey absently traces circles on Chloe's lower back and stares across the driveway at nothing in particular. Chloe's hair tickles her face as she breathes in and out, but she can't will herself to brush it away. It's strange to think, with Chloe crying and all, that she feels warm for the first time since arriving on this island - even with the wind chilling her to the bone. Chloe's breaths against her neck and the way she somehow seems to just fit against Aubrey like they're puzzle pieces warms Aubrey from the inside out. She stills her hand against Chloe's back, feeling her muscles expand as she inhales and then relax as she slowly lets the air back out. She wishes they were back at the inn so they could sit like this for the rest of the night.

Chloe sniffles quietly then slowly loosens her one of her hands from Aubrey's shirt to wipe her nose with the palm of her hand.

They can't stay here much longer. Aubrey glances down at Chloe then eases her upright. She expects resistance, but Chloe sits up willingly. Her fingers aren't so quick to untangle from Aubrey's shirt though. Aubrey doesn't force her to let go. She lifts her hands to Chloe's face and gently wipes away the remainder of her tears with her palms.

Chloe sniffs again then finally lifts her head and meets Aubrey's gaze. She purses her lips together tightly and her chin still wobbles threateningly. She looks like she wants to say something, but she just stares in silence - looking at Aubrey like she might never see her again once she looks away. Aubrey knows that look. That feeling. The same one she gets every time Chloe mentions Beca. She just doesn't understand why Chloe is looking at _her_  like that. But Chloe is drunk and tired, and that's enough reason Aubrey needs to put it on the backburner until she can get Chloe back to the inn and have some time alone to dwell on it.

Somewhere in the distance a dog howls and they both practically leap out of their skin. Chloe stiffens and tightens her grip on Aubrey's shirt.

"It's okay," Aubrey assures her and looks around. Her heart pounds in her chest. She grabs Chloe by the arm and hoists her into a standing position as she gets to her feet. There is a sharp pain in her chest that feels like panic is stabbing her with a knife. It was just a dog. She reminds herself to breathe and looks at Chloe. Chloe stares at her feet as though she's already forgotten about being startled and has drifted into another world.

Chloe will be okay in the morning. Aubrey just wishes she could say the same for herself.

The flashlight remains discarded on the stairs beside them and Aubrey keeps a firm grip on Chloe's arm as she leans down and picks it up. She hesitates then points the light in the direction they need to walk. She's not sure what she expects to see, but the only thing that lies ahead is an empty road. It doesn't calm her nerves. She swallows thickly and allows her gaze to flit in different directions as she starts to walk then wraps her arm around Chloe's shoulders.

Chloe tugs her sleeves down over her hands then wraps her arms around her lower torso and presses into Aubrey's side. Their close proximity makes walking difficult, but Aubrey feels safer with her there. She lightly traces her fingers up and down Chloe's arm, wondering if she's able to provide any sort of reassurance - for herself or for Chloe.

The road looks like it goes on for miles and Aubrey briefly wonders if she could call someone to pick them up. But, chances are, everyone is drunk. An it's not like any of them have cars. She sighs and pulls Chloe toward the middle of the road so no low-lying tree branches smack them in the face. The road at least seems wider now that she's not driving on it. She can't say it seems any smoother though. She keeps her eyes partially on the ground so neither of them trip over any potholes. Chloe drags her feet and occasionally kicks a loose rock off to the side of the road.

A lone cricket hiding somewhere in the woods chirps at the pace of their heavy footsteps. Aubrey attempts to change pace. She tries to listen to the beat of the cricket's music, almost expecting it to turn into a song. It's hard to pay attention over the sound of her own breaths. Her heart is still beating in her ears from being startled by the dog. Chloe kicks another rock with her toes and it crashes through some leaves on the side of the road. The cricket is silent for a moment then resumes its tune.

Aubrey draws in a slow breath through her mouth and scans the area. What if they run into the injured deer? Or the music? The light from Nikki's porch is becoming barely visible in the distance behind them, letting them alone with just a flashlight. She loosens her grip on Chloe's shoulder. "Chloe, we should walk faster." She picks up her pace and expects Chloe to match it.

If anything, Chloe just walks slower. She slips out from under Aubrey's arm and walks at half of Aubrey's pace.

Aubrey stops walking and turns to face her. She presses her lips together and tries to swallow her nerves - literally, if bile counts as nerves. Chloe stops moving as well. She keeps her arms securely around herself and tugs at the stomach area of her sweatshirt.

"You know I've never seen anyone dead before?" Chloe whispers out of nowhere. She rubs her nose again with her palm. "I mean, I saw my grandpa at his wake, but that was different." She shakes her head.

The cricket fills the silence. Aubrey doesn't know what to say. She walks back toward Chloe and stops a few inches away from her.

Chloe looks up at her and swallows thickly. "Why would somebody do that, Aubrey?" She sniffles. "Just tie a rope around their neck and…" Her voice trails off. The color drains from her face.

If there is an answer to that question, Aubrey doesn't know it. There have been plenty of times when she wished she just never existed, but to think about killing herself would have been cowardly. She briefly tries to imagine it - tying a rope around her neck, climbing up onto a chair, knowing that she might not have to deal with life anymore but she'd also never see Chloe's face again. She thinks of Nikki walking into the ice cream parlor to find her brother dead. She doesn't understand why after being offered an in to New York City, he would suddenly just decide the fight wasn't worth it. Anger swells in her gut. It doesn't make sense. But people's choices rarely make sense to Aubrey. "I don't know."

Chloe digs her fingertips into the fabric of her sweatshirt. "Maybe we should have been nicer to him…"

"You mean maybe I should have been nicer?" Aubrey snaps and takes a step back. She doesn't know where the guilt suddenly came from. She presses her nails into her palm. Would it have made a difference if she had been nicer?

"No, that's not what I  _said_ , Aubrey," Chloe replies and shakes her head. "Why do you always only hear what you want to hear?"

Aubrey presses her lips together and stares at her. That's not true. She hears what is said.

Chloe's frustration fades immediately and her features soften. "I keep seeing him hanging there." Her brows furrow and her forehead creases in discomfort. She keeps tightening her grip on the middle of her sweatshirt. She swallows and seems oddly focused on the pace of her breaths.

Aubrey places a hand on Chloe's arm and studies her face. It's turning a sickly shade of white. "The image will go away." Will it? She still sees Tyler's eyes in her mind as clear as day. She looks down the road then back at Chloe and wonders if she can convince her to start walking again. She takes half of a step, keeping her hand on Chloe's arm, but Chloe doesn't follow. "Chloe…"

Chloe lifts one hand to her forehead and sprawls the other across her stomach. She swallows again and looks at the ground, her eyes glassy and distant. She quivers, just enough for Aubrey to notice her shaking.

_Shit._  Trying out the 'local whiskey' is never a good decision to make when one is a tourist. Aubrey grabs Chloe by under her arm and tries to haul her off to the side of the road. She only manages to get about two steps before Chloe gags and a mixture of whiskey and beer foam ends up running down the front of her sweatshirt. Aubrey drops her arm and circles around behind her, gathering her hair back and helping her bend over at the waist. "It's okay." She tries to keep and eye on Chloe and an eye out for cars at the same time. It would be nice if Chloe didn't try to power through things and would have given Aubrey some sort of warning that the whiskey wasn't agreeing with her. Or maybe it isn't the whiskey, and it's just the thought of Tyler hanging himself.

Chloe makes a retching noise then empties her stomach of the alcohol onto the road. Her shoulders start to vibrate and Aubrey spills out all the calming words she can think of in an effort to calm her down. Aubrey vomits when she's stressed; Chloe stresses when she vomits. They just need to go back to the inn where Aubrey can put her in bed and they can draw this day to an end. Chloe gags and spits then dry heaves twice.

"Better?" Aubrey asks when she's done.

Chloe just offers a small nod.

Chloe's nose is running worse than before and Aubrey lets go of her hair and pats her pockets to see if she has any tissues. Nothing. She curses herself for letting her bag at the beach. "You're going to have to use your sleeve, Chloe," she tells her then quickly adds, "I'll wash your sweatshirt as soon as we get back." She's going to have to clean the vomit off of it right away anyway.

Chloe's hand shakes as she slowly lifts it to her nose and mouth and wipes them off. She glances down at the front of her sweatshirt then looks away in revulsion.

"Turn around." Aubrey takes her arm again and slowly spins her around to assess the damage. She'll be able to take the stain out. If she's a pro at anything, it's washing vomit out of clothing. Chloe can't wear that back to the inn though. Even if it's cold outside. She grips the sleeves and pulls Chloe's arms through them, ignoring Chloe's weak reluctance to take the sweatshirt off. It takes Aubrey a second to figure out how to pull it up over her head without getting vomit in her hair. She takes the bottom of the sweatshirt and rolls it upward until the soiled areas are covered then pulls it over Chloe's head and ties it into a knot so it won't come undone. She tucks the sweatshirt under her arm.

Another breeze rushes past and Chloe rubs her hands up and down her arms. The dog howls again. Chloe's gaze flashes in the direction of the noise then she looks forward again, staying silent as she starts dragging herself toward the inn again.

Aubrey is still for a moment. It will take over an hour to get back to the inn at the pace Chloe is set at. She's not willing to walk for that long - partially because Chloe is exhausted and partially because their location is creeping her out. She rolls her eyes at what she's about to do. "Chloe," she calls her back. She sighs and squats down. She places the flashlight under her arm with the sweatshirt, taking a second to balance herself by placing her fingertips on the gravel before taking the items out from under her arm and just holding them.

Chloe turns her head and looks down at her. She sniffs and hesitates then walks back and circles around Aubrey, climbing onto her back and wrapping her arms tightly around Aubrey's neck.

It's a good thing Chloe is tiny. Aubrey stands up and hoists Chloe into a more comfortable position on her back. So much for thinking earlier that she wasn't going to willingly carry Chloe back to the inn. She starts walking and tries to focus on the rise and fall of Chloe's chest against her back rather than on their location.

Chloe buries her face against Aubrey's neck, her breaths warm against Aubrey's skin. She's silent for nearly ten minutes before mumbling against Aubrey's shoulder. "I didn't get to ask you my question."

Aubrey blinks and has to think. Right. The question Chloe wanted to ask her at the bonfire. "You can ask it now," she replies and braces herself.

"I can't ask it  _now_ ," Chloe argues.

Then why bring it up? Aubrey rolls her eyes.

A few more crickets keep the evening from falling into absolute silence. Chloe's arms loosen around Aubrey's neck and her breaths begin to even out. Aubrey thinks she must have fallen asleep. She's slipping and Aubrey hoists her up further on her back. She points the flashlight at a better angle in front of her.

"Aubrey…" Chloe mumbles again.

"I love you, Chloe, but no more talking," Aubrey responds. "We can talk tomorrow."

Chloe nods and relaxes, becoming dead weight for Aubrey to carry. She nuzzles her face into Aubrey's shoulder, murmuring words into the fabric of her shirt that Aubrey can just barely make out. "I wish you said you loved me more."

Aubrey stops. Stop walking. Stop breathing. She stares at the barely lit road in front of her and tries to decipher the heavy feeling that weighs on her chest from Chloe's words. Guilt, maybe? No. It's something worse than that. She cranes her neck to look at Chloe, wondering if maybe she can help put her feelings into words, but Chloe has already drifted off to sleep.

 


	32. Thirty-Two

**Arrhythmia**

* * *

  
_I don't want to be a soldier_   
_Who the captain of some sinking ship would stow,_   
_Far below._   
_So, if you love me, why'd you let me go?_   
_-Coldplay_   


* * *

Two ancient trees frame the end of the inn's driveway - massive fluffy pines that have been interwoven and trimmed into a graceful archway. Aubrey exhales and approaches them. Chloe is dead-weight on her back and it's taking a toll on the muscles near her shoulders. She's given up on trying to adjust Chloe into different positions as she always ends up moving back into the same one - one arm draped over Aubrey's shoulder, her other hand entangled in Aubrey's hair, and her face buried against Aubrey's neck. The end of the flashlight digs into Aubrey's side and is two seconds away from falling; she tightens her arm against it and cringes as it rolls against her ribs. If she drops anything, it's going to be Chloe - the one thing that doesn't actually  _need_  to be carried. (Okay, so she definitely would not just drop Chloe on the ground, but that is beside the point.) Chloe sniffles quietly and twists Aubrey's hair around her fingers.

Aubrey stops by one of the trees and cranes her neck in an attempt to look at Chloe's face. "Chloe, you're pulling my hair," she snaps. She groans and gives her a slight bump upward. "Chloe - " There is a noise off to the side and Aubrey stops trying to admonish her for a moment. Shivers trace down her spine, a chill that isn't really from the cold. She glances around for the source then follows the low drone of a man's voice closer to the pine tree, peering around the side of it. Dr. Mitchell stands beside the inn, a cell phone pressed against his ear. Aubrey stares at him, needing a moment to grasp the lack of threat, then turns in the direction of her room. She needs to put Chloe down before her arms fall off from holding her.

"Beca is  _not_  gay," Dr. Mitchell growls. It doesn't sound like an argument with the person on the other end of the phone - just a general (albeit forceful) statement. "That is not going to happen."

Aubrey turns to face him again, staying hidden from his view by the tree. She shakes her head at herself and looks at the pine needles. She shouldn't be eavesdropping. And it's not as though she cares about whatever is going on with Beca or with Beca's father. The Mitchells are not her problem. Still, her feet stay rooted to the ground and she glances at Dr. Mitchell again.

"I want those girls kept away from my daughter," Dr. Mitchell continues and takes a step away from the inn's wall. "Particularly the redhead. My daughter is marrying Jesse Swanson and that is the end of it."

Chloe is slipping and Aubrey tries to hoist her back up.

"I want those two girls off this island," Dr. Mitchell barks. He pauses for a moment. "Good."

Chloe shifts and her leg knocks the flashlight out from under Aubrey's arm. Aubrey instinctively spins to catch it, but can only watch it fall, both of her hands busy keeping Chloe from falling with it. The light clatters on the ground, the back falling off and the batteries rolling across the gravel. The porch light from the inn keeps the area illuminated. Aubrey looks back around the tree and holds her breath.

Dr. Mitchell looks up and closes his phone. He stuffs it in his pocket and walks toward the tree.

Aubrey stands up straight and squares her shoulders, ignoring the tension in her muscles where Chloe is leaning on her the most. She clenches her jaw and holds her breath, her arms instinctively tightening around Chloe's legs. As the soles of Dr. Mitchell's shoes slap across the pavement, she can't help but be grateful that Beca's father is nowhere near as intimidating as her own. Still, she shields Chloe between herself and the thick pine behind them. The needles prick her arms and surround her with their prominent scent - sharp, grounding sensations. She tries to brush the branches away from Chloe's legs to prevent them from scratching her.

Dr. Mitchell rounds the archway and bends down to pick up the flashlight, not glancing up at Aubrey. He slides the batteries back in then snaps the back into place as he straightens back up. The light turns back on and he points the beam behind him, the other end level with Aubrey's face. "Stay away from my daughter," he warns and looks her directly in the eye. Aubrey stares back at him unflinchingly, despite the weak feeling in her knees. He lowers the flashlight, pointing the lit end at the ground, and walks back in the direction he came from.

It hadn't been her choice to attend Beca's wedding for an ill-advised marriage that probably isn't even going to last. Aubrey holds her dauntless posture and stares at the back of his head as he walks away. She bites her tongue to refrain from reminding him that Beca is an adult and is capable of choosing who she does and doesn't want to be around on her own. It would be pointless. Aubrey is not even someone that Beca wants to associate with. Chloe, on the other hand, well, that matter is just too complicated. She steps away from the tree and readjusts Chloe. Dr. Mitchell has no place involving himself in the delicate matter that is Chloe and Beca.

Aubrey continues up the driveway in the opposite direction of Dr. Mitchell, rounding the inn toward her room. Beca should have left her things by the door by now. She's just going to need to figure out how to dig their room key out of her pocket without dumping Chloe on the ground. She attempts to reach her fingers into her pocket while glancing around near her feet for her beach bag. It's nowhere to be seen. The only reliable trait that Beca has is that she's completely unreliable. A low groan of frustration rumbles in Aubrey's throat. She tries to slide the key out of her pocket with her ring finger. It moves about a centimeter then slips back down to the bottom of her pocket. "Chloe, you're going to have to get down," she tries to wake her up. Chloe doesn't budge.

Aubrey nudges her. "Chloe."

"Hey. Need a hand?" Beca asks.

Aubrey nearly leaps out of her own skin. She stumbles under the uneven weight of Chloe on her back as she tries to turn to face Beca. "What the hell, Beca?" she snaps and shoots her a glare.

Beca takes a half of a step back toward the corner of the building. "Jesus Christ,  _Aubrey_ ," she retorts, eyes wide.

Chloe shifts.  _Of course_  it's Beca's voice that would be the thing to wake her up.

"Lower your voice, Beca," Aubrey whispers. The last thing anyone needs is Chloe waking up, still drunk, to find Beca standing in front of their door. "What the hell are you doing?"

Beca drops Aubrey's beach bag on the ground and raises her hands in front of her. "You told me to bring your stupid bag." She lowers her hands and looks at the bag.

Aubrey scowls at her. "You were supposed to leave it beside my room." She glances around for any sign of Dr. Mitchell then fumbles for her key again.

Beca stares at her. "It's literally right outside your door, Aubrey." She motions toward the room. "I followed your instructions, 'Sergeant'." She makes air quotes.

"Don't call me that," Aubrey warns her. "I didn't  _instruct_  you to stick around with the bag."

"Dude, I just got here!" Beca defends herself.

"Well then maybe you should have followed my instructions faster," Aubrey counters.

"Are you serious?" Beca asks with a wry smile. She steps between Aubrey and the door. "You called me and told me there was an accident and that I had to bring your bag to your room then hung up on me, and now you're yelling at me for bringing your bag to your room."

Aubrey presses her lips together to form a straight line and meets Beca's gaze. They shouldn't be standing outside arguing - not after she overheard Beca's father on the phone. That leaves her the options of either telling Beca to go back to her own room or letting her inside. Her throat feels dry and she glances around in both directions of the building for Dr. Mitchell again. She and Beca need to talk again, and probably sooner than later. "My key is in my pocket," she informs her.

"Are you going to use it to open the door?" Beca asks slowly and waits for her.

"Get it out of my pocket, Beca," Aubrey demands.

Beca takes a swift step forward and stuffs her hand into Aubrey's pocket.

Aubrey jumps and tries to pull back but just ends up pulling Beca back with her. "That's not the right pocket," she snaps.

"Could you be more specific next time?" Beca tugs her hand back out of Aubrey's pocket and feels around for the key on the other side of her pants.

"There isn't going to be a next time," Aubrey hisses. "Now would you get your hand out of my pants before Chloe wakes up?"

Beca arches a brow and pulls out the key. She snorts. "Sounds like what I used to say to Chloe every time we slept in the same bed as y-"

"That is not something I want to hear, Beca!" Aubrey's shrill voice resonates. She freezes as Chloe nuzzles her face against her neck. "Just open the door," she whispers sharply. She inhales silently and looks around again.

"Okay, okay, I'm opening the door." Beca fits the key into the lock and turns it then pushes open the door.

"And pick up my bag," Aubrey adds.

"Are you serious?" Beca asks.

"Do I look like I can pick it up right now?" Aubrey asks and adjusts Chloe in her arms.

Beca takes an exaggerated step backward and sweeps up the beach bag by its handle then throws it inside and follows it in.

"That's not yours to throw around," Aubrey scolds her and walks inside.

Beca puffs out her cheeks. She picks up the bag and sets it carefully on the couch then plops down beside it.

Aubrey nods in satisfaction. She kicks off her shoes beside the door then hauls Chloe back toward the bedroom, stopping once to peer around the corner at Beca. "You left the key in the door," she informs her with a barely visible smirk.

Beca drops her arms down onto the couch and slouches, staring hard at the open door.

"It's not going to take itself out of the lock," Aubrey points out smugly.

Beca lets her head fall back against the couch. "Oh, for the love of -" She stops herself short and shoves herself back to her feet.

Aubrey stifles a grin at Beca's submission and continues back down the hall.

The door shuts with a not-quite-slam and Aubrey can hear the key being tossed on a table. She turns into the bedroom and walks over to the bed. Her muscles burn. She sits down on the edge of the bed then tries to look over her shoulder and decide on a way to lay Chloe down without dropping her. She carefully slides one of her arms out from under Chloe and lets the sweatshirt that was tucked under it fall on the floor. Chloe counters the movement by wrapping both of her legs around Aubrey's waist.

Aubrey starts to consider just letting Chloe fall backward. It's not as though Chloe would even wake up. She shakes her arm in a futile attempt to rid it of the pins and needles feeling then tries to untangle Chloe's fingers from her hair. She can't let Chloe fall if it's just going to result in Chloe pulling her hair. Chloe is reluctant to loosen her grip. Aubrey groans and leans to the side to glance down the hall. "Beca," she calls then immediately regrets the decision. She would have had to extricate herself from under Chloe without Beca anyway if Beca hadn't shown up at the most inopportune moment.

"What, you want me to read you a bedtime story too while I'm at it?" Beca gripes as she approaches the doorway. She stops underneath the doorframe and slouches sideways against the wall.

Aubrey tugs a few strands of her hair out of Chloe's grip. "You're not funny, Beca," she informs her.

"I was being serious," Beca rejoins provokingly. She pushes away from the wall and walks around the bed until she's behind Aubrey. The bed creaks and Aubrey balances herself with both of her feet flat on the floor as Beca maneuvers herself into a kneeling position behind her and Chloe. Beca sighs, a lengthy exhalation that she seems to almost try to swallow back. The air between them acts as a conductor, allowing tension to pass back and forth between them with ease. When was the last time that the three of them had been this close?

"Don't rip my hair out," Aubrey warns and cringes at her own forced tone. She can almost  _feel_  Beca rolling her eyes.

Beca places a hand on Aubrey's shoulder and balances herself with only the tips of her fingers. She presses her chest against Chloe's back to prevent her from falling backward and uses her other hand to detach her from Aubrey. "She smells like a liquor store exploded," she comments.

"Local whiskey," Aubrey explains tersely.

Beca grunts. Chloe's arms both fall limply down by her sides and Beca quickly wraps her arms around Chloe's torso to catch her. She muffles a groan with closed lips and eases Chloe from Aubrey's back down onto the bed. Aubrey doesn't understand what Beca is moaning about. Beca didn't have to carry her the entire way home.

With Chloe's weight finally lifted off of her, Aubrey gets to her feet and massages her right shoulder. She makes a mental note that Chloe owes her a backrub as soon as she's sober. Multiple backrubs. She better not have pulled any muscles hauling Chloe's drunk ass around the island. She switches to rubbing her other shoulder and turns around to face the bed, not quite prepared for seeing Beca with Chloe. Her hand stills on her shoulder, her thumb pressing a little too forcefully against the area above her collarbone. Her throat constricts as Beca carefully lays Chloe down on her side, not taking her eyes off of Chloe's sleeping form. She zeros in one them, pressure crushing her lungs, the rest of the room a distant blur. If Chloe had things her way, this is how it would always be. Aubrey stands off to the side like an insignificant bystander, time slowing down like she's the Romantic False Lead in one of those god-awful Rom-Coms on the Hallmark Channel who has finally just realized she never really had a chance.

Beca exhales and lowers her hands to her lap once Chloe is resting securely on the bed. She sits back on her heels and looks up at Aubrey as though she's waiting for some kind of further instruction. She looks so natural there - like she's been on a trip rather than like she's been off getting engaged to Jesse.

Time speeds up - or, rather, crashes on top of Aubrey with the weight of a Grandfather Clock. "You should wait in the kitchen," she orders abruptly then swallows the sour taste in the back of her throat.

Beca climbs off the bed and Aubrey stares at the back of her head as she walks out of the bedroom, waiting for an argument that never comes.

Maybe she's just overthinking about Beca and Chloe. But she doubts that she is.

The air conditioner in the bedroom kicks on and Aubrey glances over at Chloe's damp clothes clinging to her skin. She feigns an agitated eye roll as she walks around the bed to undress her. She can't just let Chloe catch pneumonia. Then she would have to take care of her. Beca will just have to wait for her a little longer in the kitchen, because unlike  _some_  people, Aubrey and Chloe were not lucky enough to change into dry clothes after their rendezvous in the ocean. She rolls Chloe onto her back and slides her shirt off with ease. Grains of sand scatter across the bed and she absently brushes a few off Chloe's cheek as well. She'll have to hand the blankets and sheets over to housecleaning in the morning - and sleep on the couch until then. She pulls off the rest of Chloe's damp clothes and places them on the nightstand for the time being. Considering Chloe sleeps with her clothes off more than she sleeps with them on, Aubrey just tugs the blanket out from under her then tucks her in.

Aubrey tugs open one of the drawers in the dresser and stares at the clothes she packed. Her gaze shifts from a neatly folded pile of t-shirts toward the hall then to her nightgown. Despite what time of night it is, she grabs a shirt and a pair of jeans, places them neatly at the bottom of the bed near Chloe's feet, then peels her own damp clothes off. She opens another drawer and grabs dry underclothes, putting them on then running her fingers through her hair before pulling on the shirt and pants.

With one last glance toward Chloe, she grabs the wet clothes and Chloe's sweatshirt then walks toward the kitchen to join Beca.


	33. Chapter Thirty-Three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys. I am so sorry to have kept you waiting THIS long. As I've assured you in the past, I am not abandoning this story. I enjoy it and I enjoy you guys way too much. I've just been going through a lot - with myself and my situation. A few days ago, I moved to Round Rock, TX with nothing but some clothes and my laptop to start a new, better life far away from the neglect and abuse. My plan here is to just work and write. I want to write Arr, I have some original stuff in the works (one thing that I also plan to pitch as a TV show this week), and I am balancing two jobs to keep myself alive. Things are really hard, but they're also going well, and I plan to return to this fic as best as I can. My writing is a little rusty right now, but I hope I can return to the writer I used to be over the next few weeks and give you guys the story you want. For now though, you will have to deal with this.
> 
> Also: I usually post to FF, so I tend to forget to update here. I'm sorry. I posted this chapter there days ago.

**Arrhythmia**

* * *

_I don't want to be a solider_   
_Who the captain of some sinking ship would stow,_   
_Far Below._   
_So, if you love me, why'd you let me go?_   
_-Coldplay_

* * *

Shockingly enough, Beca is exactly where Aubrey told her to wait. Not shockingly, she seems to have made herself at home, slouching back on the chair she's sitting on with one of her feet propped up on the seat and her leg resting against the table. She glances up from the table as Aubrey enters the room and lowers her foot to the ground.

Aubrey walks past her without uttering a single word. She drops the damp clothes on the counter top beside the sink then looks at Chloe's sweatshirt. She heaves a sigh and turns on the sink.

"And the awkward silence ensues," Beca murmurs under her breath.

Aubrey rolls her eyes. There's no reason for Beca to even stick around now. Beca did her duty. Aubrey guesses she's still  _graced_  with Beca's unwanted presence because she hung up the phone on her after blurting out that there had been an accident. She dips the soiled part of Chloe's sweatshirt under the cold water. As long as she can prevent the stain from setting, it should be okay until she can wash it properly in the morning.

"Gross," Beca mutters.

Aubrey turns her neck and glares at Beca from out of the corner of her eye. "Aca-scuse me?" It's not Chloe's fault. In a logical stream of events, the vomiting happened due to drinking and the drinking happened due to either Tyler hanging from a noose or Beca's existence. For once, she chooses not to believe it's the latter.

Beca tips her chair back on two legs. "You're washing someone else's vomit," she points out matter-of-factly.

It's tempting to pretend she's surprised, like she didn't realize she was washing Chloe's sweatshirt, but instead, Aubrey just gives Beca a blank stare. "You're getting married," she counters.

Beca lowers her chair back down to all four legs. "So?"

Even Aubrey isn't so oblivious as to how relationships work. She turns off the sink and grips the edge of the counter, not releasing Chloe's sweatshirt. "So?" she reiterates. She drops the sweatshirt and turns around to face Beca. "So just wait until you and Jesse have to take care of each other."

Beca arches a brow. "Are you serious?" She tips her chair back again. "Jesse and I can take care of ourselves."

"So can Chloe," Aubrey replies sharply. She inhales slowly and stares just above Beca's head. She lowers her voice. "That doesn't mean that she has to." She turns back around and separates the clothes, draping them all over the edge of the sink. Her throat suddenly feels dry, though she can't pinpoint the reason. She takes her time making sure most of the water from the clothing drips into the sink rather than onto the floor.  _So, who takes care of you, Aubrey?_  a simple thought runs through her mind. The logical answer would be Chloe. Chloe tries, and would succeed if Aubrey let her. But the real answer to the question is,  _I do._

From behind her, Aubrey hears Beca get to her feet and push in her chair – the legs scraping loudly across the floor. She glances back out of the corner of her eye, becoming aware that once Beca leaves, she will be almost alone. "Wait," she blurts out before she can stop herself. Shoulders tense, she presses her palms against the edge of the counter, feeling the wood press against her skin. She turns part way around, watching Beca walk over from the table and stop in front of her. Beca's hand rests casually beside one of her own, and she blames Chloe for the brief thought of hoping their fingers touch. She waits for them to brush together, waits for the burning feeling, but they never do.

Aubrey's gaze flutters from their hands to the ground, her cheeks growing momentarily hot. "Chloe thought she heard something at the ice cream shop," she says quietly. She has to purse her lips together for a moment as tears sting her eyes. She can't look at Beca, sure if she does that Beca will know she had treated the shop worker less than ideal. "Then the guy who worked there was dead." She could have worded it better, piecec it together step by step for Beca, had she been able to make words without her airways clenching together.

"Like... _dead_?" Beca looks around as though the explanation is written somewhere in the kitchen. She looks at Aubrey again.

There is a tear lurking in the corner of Aubrey's eye and she has to wait for it to snake its way down her cheek and hide somewhere on the front of her shirt before she can look at Beca. She keeps her muscles clenched tight as she nods. "Chloe saw him dead, Beca."  _So did I._

Beca stands there uselessly. "So what did she hear?"

Aubrey manages to breathe in a deep breath then slowly let it out. There was no way Chloe could have heard him die had he hung himself. Her brows furrow on their own accord. She slowly shakes her head. "I don't know." It occurs to her how lost Beca looks, but Aubrey doesn't bother to say anything else. Her chest aches. Her lips start to quiver and she quickly clenches her jaw to stop from appearing as though she's going to cry.

"Dude." Beca tilts her head and tries to make eye-contact. "What is going on with you?"

Their fingers touch and Aubrey withdraws her hand like she's been burned. She looks at the faucet, tempted to turn on the water and see if it will wash away Beca's touch. Her breaths are getting heavier as she tries to keep them even. "I'm not crazy, Beca," she insists, finally meeting her eye. She breaks their gaze as tears blur her vision and walks away from her, making her way into the living room.

"Aubrey," Beca hisses and follows her. She grits her teeth. "I never said that you were crazy."

"No, but that's what you're thinking!" Aubrey snaps in a loud whisper. She turns and lowers herself down onto the couch then crosses her arms across her chest. It feels like she can't catch her breath. Her phone rings. She realizes she could hand it to Beca to answer, but instead she loses her battle against holding back tears and stares at the carpet as she listens to her ringtone.

"I'm not, Aubrey," Beca insists and points at herself with both hands as she walks toward the couch. "Just because you think that I'm thinking something doesn't mean that I'm thinking what you're thinking I'm thinking." She pauses. "Jesus Christ." She sits down on the couch, so close to Aubrey that they're almost touching. "Just tell me what's going on." She sounds almost desperate.

Aubrey is silent as her phone continues to ring. Her nose is getting stuffy and she resorts to breathing through er mouth, inhaling and exhaling heavy, sporadic gasps of air. Her stomach drops and she has to close her eyes and push back feeling as though she is going to vomit. She's not sure she can hold it back this time. She closes her mouth, failing at holding back a whimper when she suddenly can't breathe at all.

Beca quickly turns on the couch to face her, kneeling with one leg under herself and her other foot pressed against the floor. "Aubrey, you're okay." She's a little more forceful with her words and a lot less soothing than Chloe would have been. She grabs Aubrey's arm and places her other hand flat on Aubrey's lower back. She suddenly sounds less sure of herself. "Dude, you're shaking." The hand on Aubrey's arm suddenly moves to her forehead.

Aubrey already knows she doesn't have a fever. She shoves Beca's hands away from her. "Get off, Beca!" She moves to refold her arms, but Beca tries to put her hands right back in their original position. "I said get off!" She pushes at Beca's hands, dueling with them as they try to keep touching her. "Get off!" Her phone rings again.

"Is that whoever keeps calling you?" Beca asks.

Aubrey screws her eyes shut, still trying to fight off Beca's hands, and adamantly shakes her head. But there is no one else who would be calling her phone. Chloe is asleep.

Beca's hand slips past her and to her pocket with her phone. She grabs the phone before Aubrey can get to it and pulls away from her, answering the call and holding it to her ear. "You better knock it the fuck off," she spits into the receiver. The music drifts through the earpiece, loud enough that Aubrey can hear it. Beca gets to her feet. "You want to hide behind your music, you coward? I'll still find who you are."

Aubrey opens her eyes and watches her. She realizes it should be her on the phone; it should be her with the courage to put the person calling in their place. But she would rather not deal with whatever consequences could come from that. She doesn't need another mirror covered in blood. She's suddenly overwhelmed with the need to convince Beca to hang up the phone before something happens to her as well. She draws in a deep breath, trying to steel her emotions. "Beca," she half-whispers. "Beca, don't."

Beca looks at Aubrey just as the music fades and is replaced by static.

A man's distorted voice speaks calmly into the phone. "If you place your head in a lion's mouth, Beca, then you cannot complain one day if he happens to bite it off." He breathes heavily – angrily.

"I'll keep that in mind next time I'm at the zoo," Beca retorts. "You call either of us again and they'll be scraping your DNA out of that lion's shit," she warns.

He hangs up the phone.

"He was quoting," Aubrey points out.

Beca hangs up Aubrey's phone and tosses it on the couch. "Quoting what?" she asks. "A safari waiver?"

Aubrey sniffles and shakes her head. "Agatha Christie." Her voice cracks. "He's quoting from a murder mystery author, Beca."

"So he's an asshole and he lacks originality," Beca reiterates. "If it's Bumper, what else is new?" She throws herself back down on the couch. "Can he just let it go that we won the title?" She exhales a disbelieving breath and shakes her head. "And once upon a time, I thought  _you_  were obsessed and ridiculous."

Aubrey glances over at her out of the corner of her eye. Things are no longer piecing together the way she thought they were. There was Bumper being Bumper – and then there was a missing weapon, blood on her mirror, and a dead boy. She shook her head. "It's not Bumper, Beca." She wrings her hands together on her lap. "This is about more than just A Capella." She searches for the words to sum up her thoughts, but isn't sure Beca would believe anything she had to say. "I think we should go for a walk," she says. "I have to show you something."

"Dude, it's the middle of the night." Beca sits up straight and turns to face her. "Shouldn't you be here with Chloe?"

"I can call one of The Bellas to stay with Chloe," Aubrey suggests. She hates the idea, but she can't come up with a better one.

Beca lifts a hand and rubs her face – pressing her palm and fingers hard against her eyes.

Aubrey steadies her voice. "This is important, Beca."

Beca sighs. "There are a lot of important things I should - " She's cut off by her ringtone. It causes the both of them to jump. Beca lowers her hand from her face and grabs her own phone out of her pocket. She answers it and presses it hard against her ear. "What the hell do you want?"

"Whoa," Jesse's voices come through the earpiece. "It's me."

Beca exhales a sigh that contains only a fraction of relief. "Yeah, sorry. I was expecting it to by my dad," she lies.

Jesse is silent for a moment before speaking again. "You should really make up with him before the wedding, Bec."

"I'll put it on my to-do list right after Stacie's idea that she help me pick out lingerie for our wedding night," Beca deadpans.

"...right," Jesse mutters and follows it up with a few seconds of silence. Seemingly coming to the conclusion that Beca isn't going to talk, he continues the conversation. "Where are you? You're not back at the room."

Beca purses her lips together and shoots a glare at Aubrey then looks up at the ceiling.

Aubrey watches her, waiting for her to tell Jesse that she'll be right there then make a beeline for the door.

"Yeah, I won't be back tonight," Beca tells him. "The Bellas are having a Girls' Night," she lies through her teeth. "They want to play Truth or Dare, but Aubrey is policing it like hell."

Aubrey narrows her eyes. "I don't  _police_  things, Beca," she snaps.

Beca rolls her eyes.

"That's a little weird," Jesse says slowly. "I just saw Fat Amy walking by with Bumper on my way back from the bonfire."

"She said something about wanting a midnight snack before she came over," Beca says. She smirks. "Something about a quick sausage roll."

Aubrey gives her a disgusted look and does her best to fight off the half-smile that suddenly pulls at her lips.

Beca looks at Aubrey and her smirk suddenly seems to become prouder. 'Call Fat Amy to watch Chloe,' she mouths at Aubrey.

Aubrey's smile fades back into pure disgust. 'Gross,' she mouths back, 'Do you know what she's probably doing right now?'

Beca places her hand over the phone receiver. 'Yeah', she replies. She moves her hand back and forth in front of her mouth and presses her tongue against her cheek.

Aubrey  _knows_  she's going to vomit now. She uses both hands in an attempt to shove Beca right off the couch. "You call her," she whispers.

Beca snorts and lands on her side, pressing one of her feet flat against the floor to keep her balanced on the couch. She leans against her arm holding the phone and lifts her other arm to battle Aubrey away from her. "I have to go," she tells Jesse, smiling into the phone. She chokes back another laugh as Aubrey makes sure to tell her seriously that she is disgusting.

"Don't do anything too crazy tonight," Jesse says. "I love you, Bec."

"Yeah. You too," Beca replies simply then hangs up the phone. She groans and sits up, pushing Aubrey away from her.

Aubrey leans back and stares her in the eye. "You're lying to him about what you're doing," she says, suddenly serious again.

"You wanna walk or not?" Beca retorts. She gets to her feet and starts to dial a number on her phone. "I'll interrupt Fat Amy."

It's not right that Aubrey suddenly feels as though she can breathe again. But she nods and gets to her feet.

xxxxxx

"Where are we going?" Beca asks as they creep around the corner of the inn. "Jesse is going to catch us out here." She presses again the wall of the inn, her eyes on Donald and Bumper as they stand on the steps in front of the inn's main entrance. Bumper's face looks worse for the wear – a giant, exaggerated bandage covering his nose. "Or those two are gonna...tell him where I am."

"We need a map," Aubrey says – also keeping an eye on Bumper and Donald. Bumper is no doubt complaining about his shortened night with Fat Amy. Probably blaming it on the current state of his face, Aubrey thinks with a smug look. "I saw some in the lobby."

"Well, isn't there a back entrance?" Beca asks. She leans back and scans the side wall of the inn. "Or like a fire exit or something?"

Aubrey rolls her eyes. "Just wait here," she mutters through grit teeth. "I'll go in the grab the map." She takes a step around the corner.

Beca stands up straight and looks around their dark surroundings with wide eyes. "Dude, n-" She stops herself when Aubrey looks at her. "Yeah, fine," she mutters casually but with a slight tremor in her voice. She folds her arms and leans back against the wall. "Just don't take all night."

"Do you want to go get the map?" Aubrey asks not bothering to hide her irritation. She regrets asking it, because knowing Beca, she probably couldn't even find it if it jumped out and bit her on the ass as soon as she walked through the door. That and she doesn't want to stand outside alone. Not that she wants to walk past Bumper and Donald alone either.

Beca slowly leans forward, peering around Aubrey at Bumper and Donald. "I'd prefer my face stay intact, thanks."

"Then shut up and wait here," Aubrey hisses. She draws in a breath of the tree-sweetened air and marches toward the inn with every ounce of confidence she can muster. She wonders if Bumper would dare touch her again after what Beca did to his nose. Her nails dig into her palms as she realizes she's about to find out. She can't help but smirk a little though as she walks up the stairs, past him and Donald.

Bumper's face turns even more sour, but he stares straight ahead in silence, not even glancing at Aubrey. Donald, if Aubrey isn't mistaken, makes a subtle 'okay' sign with his hand.

Aubrey lifts her head higher as she continues climbing the steps then walks in the door to the lobby. She smiles politely at the man behind the main desk and quickly makes her way toward a shelf of brochures. There are a few for events on the island, but most have to do with tourist attracts on the mainland. She takes a map of the island, nods at the man behind the desk, then speed walks back out the door – past Bumper and Donald again.

Bumper mutters 'bitch' behind her back.

"Okay," Aubrey says quickly and walks back around the corner that leads to Beca, walking up beside her.

Beca jumps. "Dude," she snaps. "Give me a warning next time."

Aubrey ignores her and unfolds the map. "We need light." She squints and tries to locate the inn under the dim light of the moon and a distant street lamp.

Beca fumbles and pulls out her phone. She switches on its flashlight and shines it on the center of the map.

Aubrey shakes the map so it won't collapse when she lets go of it with one hand. "We're here," she says and points at a dot labeled 'Candlewick Inn'. The map begins to lose shape and Beca grabs the loose side of it. Aubrey continues scanning the roads and locations. "And we want to be..." She trails off. "Here." She points at the island's medical clinic.

Beca blinks. She tilts her head and looks up at Aubrey. "What?"

Aubrey nods. "I have to find something out," she says vaguely. "And you should come with me." If she can't find the right way to describe her experience with the dead ice cream shop boy, she'll just have to confirm her suspicion that his death wasn't an accident – with Beca in tow.

"That's like a mile away, near the bar," Beca states the obvious and looks from Aubrey to the map then back to Aubrey again.

Aubrey nods. "We better get walking." She folds the map back up and sticks it in her pocket. She glances back in the direction of her room, hoping that Chloe will be okay with Fat Amy She considers texting her to let her know she's going out and will be back, but doesn't want a full line of interrogation questions if Chloe doesn't wake up and never sees the text until morning. She folds her arms to avoid reaching into her pocket for her phone. "Let's go," she tells Beca firmly and starts walking toward the driveway.

"Can't we just call this place?" Beca asks, trailing behind her for a few seconds before catching up. "I'm sure they can just tell you whatever you need to know. On the phone. From inside the inn."

Aubrey turns her head and meets Beca's gaze. "This is important, Beca," she says seriously. She could call the clinic and find an excuse to have all of her questions answered. But what good would that do when she already can't think of a way to describe anything to Beca? "I need to show you."

Beca sighs and presses her lips together in an irritated smile.

Aubrey stops at the edge of the driveway and turns to stand facing Beca. She'll never be able to handle Beca's attitude a mile across this damn island. "I'm serious," she says in a low voice. "This is important." She pauses and breathes in an attempt to find a gap in her pride. The corners of her lips twitch in discomfort. "And I'm trusting you."

Beca's features slowly soften, subtly at first but then more visibly, into something that almost resembles pain. Her smile becomes tighter and she looks at the ground then briefly back at Aubrey. She crosses her arms and nods toward the main road. "Then what are we waiting for?"


End file.
